


Tall

by Mayclore



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Blood, Gen, Psychological Horror, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 14:16:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 29,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayclore/pseuds/Mayclore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gravity Falls is famous for a particular kind of phenomena, one which Dipper and Mabel Pines are familiar - even comfortable - with. Over a few days in July, however, one of the twins will encounter another kind entirely, and it will not pass them by without extracting a heavy price.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"You know, it'd be nice if the quiet weren't so freaking creepy."

Dipper blinked at his sister's words, casting a look back over his shoulder as they walked through the forest. "I didn't think you liked silence."

"Sometimes it's nice!" she fired back, folding her arms and almost falling over a tree root. "Ow."

He turned back and went over to help her steady herself. While she shook the sting out of her left foot, he glanced around at the swaying trees. "Yeah. I think I'm with you about the creepy factor, though. Where are the birds?"

"We probably scared them away with our stupid hammering." In their wake they'd left a new trail of yellow arrows to guide anyone in the woods to the Mystery Shack. "Why does Grunkle Stan even need these signs? There's nobody out here but us."

"You underestimate how dumb a tourist can be," he said, stopping and blinking at himself. "Man, I even think like him now."

Mabel giggled for a few seconds, so loud she covered her mouth. "Poor Dip. It happened to me too, though. Remember when I was the boss?"

Dipper slapped his forehead and groaned. "Ugh, don't remind me. I thought that gremloblin was gonna kill everybody."

As they weaved and struggled through the undergrowth, a potent gust of wind arose that smacked the trees around. A cloud passed in front of the sun, although the sky was still mostly blue. As Mabel stopped to free the sleeve of her pink sweater from a thorny vine, her brother took in the scene.

"At least you see what I mean about this place. I always feel like there are eyes on me in here." He snapped his gaze over as Mabel extracted her arm with a loud grunt, then shook her arms and growled. "You okay?"

She nodded, but an open-mouthed frown marred her face. "Fine, but now I'm gonna have to re-knit this sleeve. And I'm out of pink yarn!"

He couldn't help but chuckle. Another gust killed his laugh, however, and he looked up at the sky. "We'd better go. I don't think we want to get caught in a pop-up thunderstorm."

"What could possibly go wrong?" Mabel asked, falling in beside him as he started off. "I mean, we're only surrounded by tall objects that would attract like, all the lightning." She was absolutely serious, but her smile faded to blankness as she processed her own words. "Ooooh. Oh. That be bad."

They only needed a few minutes more to emerge from the trees, coming into the clearing next to the bottomless pit. Mabel stopped once more, crouching repeatedly in place.

"What are you doing?" Dipper asked, blinking at her as she bobbed up and down. "You can exercise inside. Where the lightning  _won't_  be."

"Oh, calm your dipsticks, bro," she countered, grunting. She placed her hands on her knees and continued to stretch. "I messed up my leg back there. Roots are dumb. Trees should just drink from cans like the rest of us."

Above them, the sun faded even further behind a rolling tower of fluffy white. "All right, if you say so. I'm going on ahead." She waved him off; he shrugged and spun on his heel to walk away.

"Owie, owie," she breathed, grimacing at the tweaked sensation in her left leg. "I'm sorry, knee. Please work so I don't get electrocuted, okay?"

She froze as a whisper reached her ears, barely audible above the breeze. Immediately she stared at her balky joint. "Kn-knee? You can talk? I have knee people? Ohmygosh, my body is full of skeleton fairies!" She slapped her hands to her cheeks and stood straight, gazing off with wide eyes. "This is awe-"

Another whisper drifted by, but this one tickled the back of her skull and made her frown. Unnerved, she hugged herself against the wind and glanced about. "Th-that's no knee..." The noise was thrown about by the air, but an icy tingle down her spine told her exactly where its source was. She whirled around and found herself staring into the empty forest. "Hello?" Everything in her sight was moving, twisted by the wind. Past the first few trees, the insides of the forest were made invisible by the moving shadow. "Please be someone nice and not a total serial killer?"

The whispers ceased abruptly, as did the flow of air. As the trees grew still, she could see much farther into the woods, only to find nothing of interest within. Still uneasy, she turned to leave. A flash of black swept across her sight and froze her again. She looked back at the spot, boring holes into it with her anxious eyes, but nothing was there.

"Time to go," she whispered, so rattled her instinct was speaking more so than her conscious thoughts. "Time to go, time to goooooo..." Despite the gentle protests of her leg, she ran headlong toward the shack's side door, throwing herself through it after she got it open. Almost reflexively, she pressed her back against it once it was shut, only to realize she was staring at a confused Dipper as the cloud of fear lifted.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," he commented idly, swishing a can of Pitt in his hand. His eyes shifted with a thought that made him smirk. "Another ghost, I mean." Mabel didn't laugh or smile at his remark, snapping him into seriousness. "Mabel? Are you all right?"

In a second's width of time, she took his theory and tried to fit it to the memory of the inky smear that now poked at her brain. Vehemently, her logic refused this as an answer; the denial only served to make her tremble in her heart-splashed sweater. "F-fine," she stammered, raising up off the door and taking a shaky step forward. "My leg just hurts."

"Oh." His eyes said he didn't believe her, but the way she acted deterred him from pressing further. "Go lie down. I'll come up and hang out with you in a few minutes."

"Yeah! I'll do that. That's a good idea, uh...yeah," she nodded frantically, darting away and up the stairs as fast as her gimpy limb would allow. She flew into the attic and onto her bed, shoving her face into the pillow as she lay down. "Brain, help me out here. I just saw a crow, right? A wombat? A gnome assassin?" Analyzing it made her shake again, but for some reason she was physically exhausted. As she drifted to sleep, the last noise she heard was her brother walking in and climbing onto his bed.

* * *

When Mabel's eyes slid open again, darkness greeted them. Sitting up, she first looked above at the triangle window and blinked at the stars beyond. Despite having been out for several hours, her body still felt drained beyond belief. Groaning quietly, she scooted over and stood up, scratching at her side with a yawn. Across the way, Dipper was asleep, back turned to her as he snoozed.

"I thought sleep was supposed to be good for you," she droned, wandering out of the room. The house was filled with gentle quiet, save for the incessant snore that flowed from behind their great uncle's bedroom door. Wearily, she entered the bathroom and fumbled with the light switch before walking over to the sink. "Ugh, I feel like I got run over by the dream bus." She peered at her reflection. "I even  _look_  like it." She splashed her face with cold water to fully wake up. A faint noise behind her forced her to look over her shoulder. "Dipper?" She moved to the door and poked her head out, but found herself alone. "Uh?" The noise came again, although this time it sounded like it originated from the bathtub. Almost annoyed, she stalked over and peered behind the curtain. Nothing was there.

"What the blankety-blank?" she growled, hearing the whisper again. As her mind began to consider the possibilities, an answer borne of her unique experiences pushed itself to the forefront. Somehow, the idea of the whisper attached itself to the smear of black she saw earlier, and the result of the equation made Mabel grit her teeth. "It  _is_  a gnome assassin. Dang it!"

Angry, she moved back into their bedroom, silently retrieving a flashlight from Dipper's nightstand. With it in hand, she crept down the stairs and out the side door, shining the beam into the dark forest. "Jeff! I am not going to be your gnome queen! Call off the tiny murderer!" she yelled, heading toward the woods. Before she knew it, she had gone deep into the trees in pursuit of her tiny foe. As she whirled in circles, her flashlight lit up nothing but tree trunks. "Oh boy. Gnome ninja has me right where he wants me." She growled and kept on walking. "I'm warning you! Come at me and I will feed you your beard hair!"

She kept going, tripping over roots and branches a few times before coming to a stop before a trunk that bore a yellow arrow. "This way to the Mystery Shack," she read out loud, unable to help the smile which followed. "Grunkle Stan, your greed has delivered me from a terrible fate." Whistling lowly, she followed the trail of signs until the whisper again nagged at her mind. This time, it was accompanied by a strange itchy sensation at the base of her skull, which she scratched at idly. "Jeff, I know where you live. Roughly. I'll totally drop a cherry bomb in your stupid cave palace." The beam of her flashlight streaked across a black form, causing her to shriek with fear. "No! No! I'm sorry! Please have mercy, gnome of death!" Once she shined the light there again, she realized this was something not at all gnome-sized. "Oh thank goodness, you're a people. Hey, are you lost?"

Upon approaching, she realized this was someone in a suit – a tall someone, whose upper half was obscured against the void of branches above. The jacket was black, as was the tie, but the shirt under both was white. "You scared the-" she paused, growling at how loud the whispers had gotten. "Ignore that. It's a jilted gnome. Anyway, follow me!"

She started walking, but the figure did not follow. "Come on, seriously. The signs aren't lying. I put some of them up my own self." When she got no reply, she put a hand on her hip and frowned. "You don't talk much, do you?" On a whim, she shone the flashlight at the figure's face.

It had none.

Mabel giggled a little, in spite of the tingling cloud of confusion spreading through her brain. "Summerween was a while ago, guy, but nice costume." She looked back into its missing visage for the seams of the mask, but there weren't any. "I...uh..."

Abruptly, she turned away, her motions now controlled by fear. Eyes bulging, she began to walk, one unsteady footstep at a time. The whispers chased her as she went; after a few yards of travel the girl was sweating profusely with unbridled terror. She could not make herself move any faster, no matter how loudly her brain screamed. In fact, her gait just got slower the further she moved, until every step was a trembling struggle.

"Please help me," she said, almost as if the phrase were part of idle conversation. Her hands shook fiercely, causing the flashlight beam to dance around through the forest. "Dipper? Grunkle Stan?" Through sheer force of will, she turned and cast the light behind her. The faceless one had vanished. This didn't help her feel any better, but it did help her start to move. "Oh man, oh man," she whimpered, breaking into a run. By some miracle, she managed not to fall during her dash, and burst from the woods near the totem pole. A cursory glance at the house informed her that she hadn't woken anyone up. All the windows were dark. Panting for air, she placed a hand on her chest and felt her racing heart.

"It's okay," she said, hauling herself through the side door of the house. Gingerly, she closed it and tip-toed up the stairs. "Just another creepy thing in this creepy town with the creepy woods and the creepy books and the creepy ghosts. Nooooo big deal at all."

After turning off the flashlight, she sneaked back into the attic and crawled into bed, lying on her back and staring up at the ceiling in an attempt to collect herself. Off to her left, Dipper let out a snore. She didn't even glance at the noise.

"Let's go over all the things that wasn't," she whispered, clasping her hands on her chest. "Not a gnome. Unless that was like, their ancient gnome god, summoned to gain revenge? Nah, I don't think a gnome god would wear a suit." She scratched at her hair and frowned at the feeling it caused. "Vampire? No fangs." The image of the faceless man made her tremble unhappily. She clutched at her head and shook the image out. "Not a zombie." The blank visage was still stuck in the front of her brain, floating like a lump of ice. "Please, no..."

Only one item would help her achieve any peace now: Dipper's precious book, the compendium of weird that encompassed of all Gravity Falls. It would surely be in there, and once she knew just what to do, she could fall asleep and take care of it in the morning. She sat up and gazed through the dark, searching for the book. It was too dim to see the distance, so she rose and shuffled over to his side of the room. He was sleeping on it; she could barely see the cover under him.

"Erk. Guess I gotta wait," she whispered, moving back to her bed and lying down. She kicked off her shoes and tried to get comfortable before attempting to nod off. Every time she let her eyes shut, she saw it again. "Forget it!" she exclaimed lowly, tears clinging to her cheeks. "I d-don't need sleep anyway."

With teeth faintly chattering, she started the arduous task of passing the night.

* * *

"Mabel!"

Some seconds went by before her brain actually detected the worried voice of her brother. Her eyes were open, but saw nothing; she had fallen asleep with them that way at some point during the night. Now that she could feel again, they were bitterly dry. Standing over her was Dipper, staring down with some restrained form of panic.

"I'm up!" she replied cheerfully, although after a moment she realized her joints were stiff. Helpless, she glanced up at the morning light that came in through the window. "I can't get up."

Dipper rubbed a hand under his hat and sighed with relief. "You looked dead for a second. When did you start sleeping with your eyes open?"

Mabel had forgotten last night until that moment. The happy overtone of her thoughts shattered. In her mind, hands reached out in desperation to piece it together without success. "I saw a thing," she said gravely, at last hauling herself upright and blinking. "Ow, my eyes..."

"Hold on, you can have some of my eyedrops." He moved away and over to his duffel bag. He struggled a moment with the zipper, then started to rummage inside. "What did you see?"

Hands wringing with dread, she watched him dig through his belongings. "Guy in a suit. No face." The last two words rattled in her thoughts, drawing out a sensation that made her want to sob. She swallowed the feeling and tried to keep calm. He returned with a little white bottle and tossed it to her. "Thanks. Can I look at your weird book?"

"Sure," he nodded, contemplating her description. "Guy in a suit with no face. Weird."

Mabel tilted her head back and squeezed a drop into her aching eyes. "That hurts in a nice way," she groaned, closing them and letting the fluid soak in. The empty face appeared again before her mind's eye, causing her to yelp with terror.

Dipper screamed in sympathy, nearly dropping the tome as he whirled to face his sister. "What?! What happened?"

Her eyes were still shut; half out of need to soothe their dryness, and half because they were slammed closed with panic. "I see it now! I see it now!"

He rushed over and sat on the bed, tearing through the pages. Mabel whimpered beside him, urging him to look faster, read faster, be faster. The text and pictures held nothing like what she described. "I don't see it in here!"

"B-b-b-but everything is in there," she whined helplessly, forcing her eyes open and wincing with the act. "Do you hear something whispering?"

Dipper stared at her, then off in a random direction as his brain routed priority to his ears. "No, I don't," he said, closing the book and giving her a concerned glance. "Wait, I think I might have an idea. I'll be right back."

Being alone was not something that appealed to her, but in the interests of at least feeling as if she had control, she waved him off with a smile and watched him go. Once he vanished, the tears flowed freely. "Please leave me alone," she said, hugging her knees to her chest and staring out. A persistent itch at the base of her skull made things worse. She scratched it, but it wouldn't go away. Some time passed before she saw her brother again, and when he arrived an odd look was etched on his face. "What? You look like you just saw Stan skinny dipping."

He doffed his hat and sighed, rubbing at his brown hair. "Mabel, if I told you I just learned of a tall guy that kidnaps children all over the planet and is virtually unstoppable, what would you say?"

Her answer wasn't words; instead, she grabbed her blanket, slid back into the corner, and hid. Little squeaks of fear escaped from her lips the entire way.

"Yeah. I figured." An awkward smile appeared as he put his hat back on. "But...he's not real. It's something some guy made up on a forum or something." She emerged from under the fluffy thing and pinned him down with an unhappy look as he walked closer. "No, seriously. It's possible you might have seen him somewhere, then because Gravity Falls is so...I don't know, Gravity Falls-y, you thought him into existence."

"Where would I have seen him?!" she snapped, scratching at the base of her skull again. "I don't like horror movies, or books, or anything dark! Except that one movie with the zombie kittens but, come on, kittens."

"Hey, I'm not saying you went looking for it, but a guy with a no face would leave an impression. It might have been something you saw in passing that bothered you more than you thought at the time." Mabel reluctantly came out from her fortification and sat beside him. He gave her a quick hug, then a more genuine smile. "Let's think. Did either of us see somebody dressed like him on Summerween?"

She rolled her eyes around and shrugged a lot, trying to sift through the near-death experience that was the holiday. "The only one I remember being all faceless and scary was the candy that tried to eat us."

"Same," Dipper nodded, rubbing his chin. "Wendy said there were a few dressed like him at Tambry's party, but neither of us saw those."

Last night's events were in full focus, and their mental weight made Mabel distinctly uncomfortable. She tossed the pillow aside, opting to hug her knees. "Wasn't a costume," she muttered, frowning so hard it looked painful.

Seeing her upset, Dipper gave her another hug. When he pulled away this time, however, his eyes were as serious as she'd ever seen. "If it wasn't a costume, then it has to be the town's magic, or whatever – again. Take me to where you saw him. I'm going to figure this out."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the twins were trundling around in the undergrowth of a stand of ancient cedar trees. The shack had long been lost behind them in the wall of trunks; the only thing strong enough to pierce the forest here was the cheerful sunlight from above. Mabel had lead the way along a path of signs they'd hung up, then took a left into the woods at large. As Dipper scanned the ground for clues, she stood quietly by and glanced at every motion that caught the corner of her sight.

"This was a bad idea," she murmured. It was eighty-eight degrees – hotter still in her dolphin emblazoned, gray sweater – but she shivered powerfully. "Dip! What are you doing?"

He was on all fours, peering at the mossy earth. "Investigating. This is what investigating looks like." He yelped as something crawled onto his hand. "Spider! Deadly spider!"

She watched him panic and run around. The offending creature was flung off of his hand and landed on her sleeve; she looked down and rolled her eyes. "It's a ladybug, you dork."

"Aha! S-so it is," he said, laughing nervously. After brushing off his vest, he realized just how weary his sister seemed. "Are you okay?"

"No." Even the admission of her uncertainly made it worse, and she took to hugging herself again. "I feel weird out here now. Like something's watching me."

"No kidding," Dipper nodded, almost glad that someone else understood the feeling he'd had for so long about the forest. "Hey, uh...you want to go back? I can take it from here."

She deflated with relief, but the idea of leaving him out here alone with that awful thing made her skin crawl. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" she asked, dropping her arms.

"If nothing else, I can go grab some crystals, shrink him, then step on him." They both laughed at the thought, although Mabel's giggle was unusually hollow. "Seriously, go. Grab some lunch and knit something."

She blinked at his suggestion and grinned widely. "That's a good idea."

They parted company. Mabel had to take great care in making her way back to the beaten path; on top of everything else, her leg was still sore. Once she reached the corridor of arrows and started following them, she reached down and rubbed at her knee. "Ow." For the first time since yesterday, no noise was waiting on the edge of her hearing, although her head still itched. "Need to fix my other sweater anyway." Before her mind could travel to more idle thoughts, a starkly loud whisper tickled the back of her neck. It was so clear, she had only one explanation for it.

"Dipper?" she asked, turning around and looking back up the path. He wasn't there. "Oh, no, not again." Spooked, she started to run, but a scream from behind forced her to stop and turn again. "Dipper!"

 _"Aaaah!"_  His voice bounced off seemingly every tree trunk. A few terrifying seconds passed. "Never mind! Just a pine cone!"

Knowing full well he'd tacked that on just for her benefit, she couldn't help but laugh with relief. "Boy, you're gonna get yourself killed one of these days." She started off again toward the house. "Gonna have a sandwich and hug my pig. Then I'll feel better." Something between two trees caught her attention. As she moved past, she stared at the spot. It turned out to be a dead branch, likely dislodged by yesterday's breeze. "Nothing. Totally nothing." She could still feel a swell of panic approaching, and so picked up her pace. "Nothing's happening! Nothing-"

Its upper half tilted out ahead of her between trunks. It was hidden from the waist down, but towered over the ground regardless. In the sunlight, she could see far more detail – or at least, how much detail was missing that should have been there. Its head was like an egg, flawless and white, though little dents were placed where eyes would normally go. Its suit was equally unnerving, made of something so black it seemed to suck light away.

A shriek became lodged in Mabel's throat. Not knowing what else to do, she turned her back on it and tried to move to where Dipper was still yelling about harmless woodland objects, but her legs were frozen stiff. The only motion she could extract from them was to turn around again. It had gone.

 _"Why?"_  she pleaded hoarsely, fighting with her muscles. "Have to go. Have to go." Her legs finally yielded, but she was limited to a fast walk. "I'm too cute to get eaten, thing. I'm not even yummy. I taste like yarn and glitter!" Her heart was pounding viciously. "Gonna faint...gonna faint..." Gulping air, she looked for a comfortable spot to tip over, but saw that the clearing – and the house – were only a hundred feet away. "Come on, Mabel, pass out in that direction!"

Wobbly and panting, she stumbled out of the woods and nearly fell into the bottomless pit. After steadying herself against the sign, she rubbed at the base of her skull. A long glance around revealed that it had not followed her; or perhaps she was too terrified to see it. "Okay. Get to the door. J-just get to the door." The nearest entrance was the porch with the yellow couch. She traced a zig-zag path to the steps, but before she could even reach porch level it was there again, leering above the door from the left hand corner. It even bent to compensate for the low ceiling, and as a result was staring from a much closer distance. Mabel startled and fell back down the steps, landing with a grunt on her back. It had vanished when she lifted her head again. Emitting a series of unhappy noises, she crawled up the steps, not attempting to stand before she reached the doorknob. She had to struggle to get it open. Once inside, she tottered through the house until running into Wendy in the kitchen.

"Whoa!" The redhead set down her can of Pitt and helped steady Mabel just as she started to fall over. "What happened? Why are you crying?"

Mabel was breathless in her arms and silent for several seconds. "S-saw it again," she finally squeezed out, hunching over once she got her feet under her. "In t-the woods. O-on the side porch."

Wendy looked off through the doorway, her expression unreadable. "Dude, that's just some dumb internet story."

Mabel did not react well to her dismissal. "Internet stories do not hover over the door and stare at me!" she yelled, hands clenched into tight fists. "They don't pop out from between trees!"

The redhead was stunned by the stress in her voice and tried to clarify her previous statement. "Look, I'm not saying you're not seeing  _something_ ," she said, kneeling down, "but that tall dude is just made up. Could it be a ghost?"

"I d-don't know," Mabel replied, her tone dropping into utter helplessness. She sat down on the floor involuntarily, right hand scratching at the back of her head. "I just want it to stop."

"That weird book of Dipper's didn't have anything?" Wendy blinked as Mabel shook her head. "Wow. Man, I don't know what to tell you." The redhead gave her a tight hug and rose to her feet. "Should I tell Stan?"

"He wouldn't believe me." Mabel also got up, but needed a moment to secure her balance. "Dipper and I can handle it. Somehow. We always do." She looked up at Wendy and flashed a weak smile. "Is there anything else to the story? Besides the kidnapping part, I mean."

"He's supposed to be invincible. God-like powers and stuff, too. Makes people go nuts." Wendy grabbed her soda off the table and took a long swig. "Something wrong with your hair?"

Mabel stopped scratching and blinked, hiding her arm behind her back. "No. Nothing." The redhead's face said she didn't buy it, so Mabel relented a little. "Itchy. Dunno why. Probably because Stan makes me hang signs in the woods all day." Her anger was mocking enough for Wendy to smile.

"That's whatcha get for being slave labor. There's some pizza in the oven, by the way. You look like you could use some." She strode out with a wave, leaving the younger girl to glance around tensely. When it failed to appear, Mabel breathed a heavy sigh.

"I just need to calm down," she muttered, opening the oven and looking inside. "Ooooo, jalapeno peppers. At least those will knock me unconscious." She reached in and grabbed a slice, pushed the door closed, then started toward the living room. As she ate, she scoured the house for her precious pig, but couldn't find him. "Shoot. He's probably stuck under something. Waddles?" she called, wandering up the stairs. She reached their room in the attic without finding any sign of him. Grumbling, she finished off the slice of pizza and fanned herself with her sweater's neck. "Soos must have asked for extra...phew..." Teetering faintly, she wandered over to her bed and felt under it for her knitting kit. Just as her fingers touched one of the needles, a whisper blew by her ears. She fell to the floor and looked back over her shoulder.

It was standing there by Dipper's bed, arms at its sides. Mabel wanted desperately to scream at the top of her lungs, but the sound got stuck and went no further than her throat. The panic built up instead, until finally she had no other choice but to faint where she lay.

* * *

When awareness found her again, Mabel realized she was a lot warmer than when she'd passed out. Feeling around, she noted a blanket was covering her, but also that she was still on the floor. Grunting, she rolled onto her back to look around, but ended up bumping into Dipper. He was sitting by her, snoring lightly. Rather, he was until the impact jarred him awake.

"Mhmph? Oh, you're up. I..." He paused, flushing with embarrassment and doffing his cap. "I couldn't lift you into bed. I really need to work out more."

"Noodle arms," she droned mockingly. Sitting up was a difficult task; the floor left her torso stiff and sore. Her hair was a disaster. She felt around behind her for her hairband and placed it on, then glanced about with weary eyes. "I saw it again, Dip. In the woods. Then it followed me in here."

"I guessed that something happened," he sighed, helping her by dusting off her sweater. "I couldn't find anything. I don't know what to do."

Mabel frowned at the frustration that leaked into his voice. "If it's not in your book, then I don't even kn-" Her eyes lit up with a passing spark of thought. Awkwardly, she closed her hands in her lap and started to mumble.

"What?" Dipper blinked as she looked away. "What?" She still refused to answer, so he took to elbowing her in the side. "Mabel, talk to me. I saw that look. What are you thinking?"

She peered out the window above at the afternoon sky and let out a dramatic groan. "I have an idea, but-"

He didn't wait for her to finish, hopping to his feet and offering her a hand up. "Then what are we waiting for?"

His smile was heartbreaking, but she tried hard to return it. She took his hand and hauled herself to her feet, wincing at the pain in her knee. "You can't come with me."

Dipper stared forever, then broke out into a nervous laugh. "You're kidding." Her face said otherwise; he blinked several times and let his shoulders slump. "Mabel, no. Every time you're alone, this thing shows up. Why the heck would I not go with you?"

"You'll be mad at me," she replied, fidgeting timidly and backing away. When he shook his head in denial, her conflicted feeling only got worse. "Yes you will. Oh man, you'll be so mad."

"Why would I be mad?" he asked, throwing his arms up in the air. She backed away farther, so he started following her around the room. "Mabel Pines, you'd better start talking, or I'll..." he trailed off, realizing his physical arsenal was lacking, "I'll give you the sternest look." He followed up his threat immediately, acquiring an expression that would make even the crankiest librarian nod with respect.

Mabel giggled at him, but her internal turmoil quickly smashed the laugh. As afraid as she was of the suited thing, she was somehow more fearful still of the reaction Dipper would have if he found out the bit of information she'd kept tucked away until this moment. "No, Dip. You can't. I can't even explain why you can't, but you can't, so don't. Okay?" The glint in his eyes shifted from serious to pleading. Mabel felt her heart crack a little bit more. "You're making this hard! Just let me go!"

"And you're making it hard for me to not make it hard!" he countered, pausing to make sure they both understood what he'd just said. "Mabel, let me help you!"

In their slow-speed dance around the attic, Mabel had surreptitiously lead him to the open closet door. One last bout of silence to make him crack failed, and with a heavy sigh she stretched out her left hand. "Fine. You win."

"That's better," he nodded, taking it. She squeezed tightly and yanked, forcing him over to her. "What the—" She drove her right hand into his shoulder and shoved him into the closet, slamming and locking the door behind him. "Mabel! What the balls?!"

"I gotta fly solo on this, Dip. Just chill. I won't be long." She darted over to her bed and changed sweaters, slipping on the red number with the rainbow shooting star. Her brother banged on the door behind her. "This is probably the worst idea I've ever had," she admitted to herself. "And that's saying something."

"Mabel! Let me out!"

She glanced long at the door, rubbing at the base of her skull. "No, Dip. If he does show up, I...I can't let you see him."

* * *

Thirty minutes later saw Mabel staring up at the giant dollar sign balloon that hovered over Gleeful's Auto Sales. Gideon's father was busy, as usual, working over a group of customers near a sedan that looked ready to decompose into its components at any moment. Quietly, she crept past all the people and toward the gate in the wooden fence in the back that lead to the house. Once she was through and on the front porch, she took a hilariously deep breath and prepared to knock.

The sign stopped her. "Pardon this garden?" She looked back at the shrubbery and blinked. "What a dumb sign." Rubbing her neck, she finally knocked at the door and waited. To her left, a face appeared briefly in the window. Shortly afterward, the door opened.

"My dear Mabel," Gideon greeted her, motioning the girl inside. "What a lovely surprise." He blinked at her rather disheveled state. "You're looking...frizzy, today."

Mabel found herself in no mood for even basic pleasantries from the self-proclaimed psychic. Folding her arms, she peered down at him. "I can't believe I'm gonna say this," she began, "but I..." She paused to gag, dropping her arms and putting one hand over her mouth. "I need your help."

An awful smile appeared on his face as he closed the door. "Is that right?" he said, walking past her to sit on the couch. "I cannot wait to hear this story."

His haughty tone exhausted what little was left of Mabel's patience. She darted over and grabbed him by the lapels of his suit and started shaking. "I've spent the last forty-eight hours being haunted by a tall guy in a suit, and so help me, if you don't drop the 'oh ha ha isn't this just hilarious' attitude I will find a bridge somewhere that needs a troll!"

Dumbfounded, Gideon couldn't even fight back until Mabel had finished speaking, at which point he grabbed her wrists. "If you were anyone else, I'd have you thr-" He stopped snarling as Mabel cocked a fist and aimed it right at his face. "No! Not my priceless baby cheeks!" He let go and covered his eyes. "What do you expect me to be able to do about your problem?"

"I wanna look at your book," she said lowly. "You know which one I'm talkin' about."

"That was supposed to be between us," he countered, sliding off the couch and adjusting his suit jacket.

"It still is. I haven't told anyone else." Mabel cursed silently and rubbed at her neck again. "This thing is gonna drive me nuts. I don't...I don't know where else to go for help."

Gideon rubbed his chin, then shrugged and nodded off toward the stairs. "Very well. You could have asked more nicely."

Slumping, she followed him, but stiffened up at his complaint. "I'm out of nice," she shot back. "Besides, you tried to kill my brother."

"He deserved it," Gideon mumbled, coughing when Mabel glared at him. "Nothing. I didn't say anything. No need to punch me."

They entered his dark room. Mabel stood at the foot of his bed and watched him retrieve the tome. While she had some idea that it was special, she was surprised to see it was almost exactly the same as the one her brother had, save the better physical condition. "So there is a series," she whispered, blinking at the cover.

"Tall guy in suit." Gideon confirmed to himself, shuffling through the pages. Mabel went to stand beside him, but he shooed her. "Ah, ah. My secret book. You wait over there, please."

Mabel grumbled furiously, but did as she was told. It felt like ages before he was done flipping through the thing; when he closed it and set in on his desk, she perked up. "Well?"

He shrugged and frowned; something about the expression was more genuine than she expected. "No such thing in there, I'm afraid."

Her lower lip began to tremble as she turned away. "Wh-what am I..." Abruptly, she whirled on her heel and glared. "Are you just saying that so you can enjoy my suffering?"

Gideon emitted an insulted grunt. "My dear, I have been accused of many, many things, but – and think of me what you may – I don't enjoy your suffering. Your suffering, mind you. Your family is another matter entirely." With an exaggerated pop of his lapels, he shuffled past and out of his room. "I do have some principles."

"That's almost nice, in a very you way," Mabel replied, still rubbing at her neck as she followed him out. "Still doesn't solve my tall guy problem."

"Nobody understands everything in this town. Not the Northwests, not your admittedly annoying great uncle, not even me." Having ushered her all the way down and back into the living room, he pointed at the front door and cleared his throat authoritatively. "Until we meet again."

Not used to being told to get out so politely, it took a moment for Mabel to catch his drift. Once she did, she let out an annoyed huff and departed. Gideon shut the door firmly behind her and stalked back up to his room. He sat down in front of his makeup mirror to check his suit, mumbling incoherently about women and their eccentricities. After some minutes of primping, he reached into the top drawer and pulled out a shining black sphere.

As he held it in his hand, he noticed it was standing behind him in the mirror.

* * *

Mabel reached the bus stop ten minutes later, only to find Dipper already on the bench and waiting with a deeply unhappy look on his face. He got up and ran over once she came within sight.

"H-how did you get out?" she asked, wilting under his unhappy glare.

"President's Key," he replied, showing it to her in the inner pocket of his vest. "Wendy said you took the bus, so I figured I'd wait for you here and then ask you  _what the heck are you doing_? Where have you been?" He would have tacked on more questions, but her body language stopped him.

She sat down on the bench, head in her hands, and tried to stifle the tears. "I went to Gideon's house."

Dipper threw his arms into the air, exclaiming "Why?!" so loud it attracted the attention of people across the street.

She slumped over even more, until it seemed she would topple forward onto the sidewalk. "'Cause he has a book too. I w-wanted to see if it was in there."

"He has a..." Dipper peeked in his vest again, where  _3_  was securely tucked away. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Mabel raised up, her heart crashing to her feet when she saw the look on her brother's face. "He never really said what it was, just that it was a special book. I didn't know it was like yours until just now, I swear," she explained, her lips trembling.

He opened his mouth again to yell, but her demeanor silenced him. Mabel was a wreck, pale as a sheet with messy hair and terrified eyes. She was shaking, and even as she stared back she was scratching the base of her skull. Taking a deep breath, he sat down on the bench beside her. "All right. Okay. No more yelling." She kept scratching as he watched. "What's wrong with your neck?"

"Everything's leaking out the back of my head," she mumbled, eyes darting around. Her whole body was trembling with the strain of being prepared to see it again, hovering, watching.

Dipper had never heard her voice bear so much stress. While he didn't know what she meant by those words, he knew that the time for demanding answers was long gone. As he struggled with the awkward silence, an idea popped up. "It never shows up when I'm with you, right?" She nodded weakly, her eyes beginning to light up as she realized where he was going with his words. "Then we'll just do what we always do."

"Be inseparable and adorable?" she asked, sniffling, but smiling.

"Of course. We are twins, after all," he replied, hopping off the bench and stretching. Mabel rose and stood with him, but the look on her face still contained an ocean of worry. Seeing her this way shook him deeply. He resorted to his favorite fallback in times of crisis – planning. "First, we're going to go home. Then, we're going to relax so you can get some sleep. Then, in the morning, I'm gonna figure out what is happening and, if at all possible, punch it in the face." Mabel gave him a skeptical glance at the last statement, causing him to laugh nervously. "Maybe  _you_  should punch it."

"Deal," she replied, rubbing her back. "Ungh. Floors are bad at being mattresses." She tried her best to shed her worry, and found the task much easier with Dipper at her side. "Here comes one now." She pointed at the approaching bus, then started to giggle. "I hope they kicked McGucket off. I'm really not in much of a mood for his raccoon make-out stories."

They boarded the bus and found it thankfully empty. Mabel chose a seat near the door, and then both of them settled in for the brief trip back into the woods.

"You know, I've been wondering. Why does a bus even go so far out of town?" Dipper looked over at his sister just in time to see her rubbing at the back of her neck again. Frowning, he recalled her earlier cryptic comment. "What did you mean earlier about the...leaking?"

She squeaked at being caught and dropped her arm. "Never mind. It's not important."

"Mabel, come on. Tell me." She wouldn't, so he put on the most worried look he could manage. "Please? Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease..."

"It's just itchy," she finally said, refusing to make eye contact with him. He laid off again, figuring it'd be best if he tried to pry further when they were at home. The rest of the trip passed in uncomfortable silence. When they left the bus and started walking, he remained close at her left side. "I'm sorry for going to our mortal enemy for help," she blurted out, still unable to look at Dipper. "I just don't know what to do any more."

He smiled and gave her a one-armed hug. "Don't even worry. We'll figure it out once you get settled down."

* * *

"Wow. Who taught you to cook, Dip?"

The boy's face was blackened with the smoke that spewed from the charred remains of his turkey sandwich. He attempted to wave the cloud away. "I just tried to melt the cheese in the microwave. That thing's older than me, it's totally not my fault."

He couldn't see her, but he could almost feel her looking at him with deep amusement. "You didn't answer my question."

"Dad," he admitted, snickering to himself. His fanning cleared the smoke, and he regained sight of Mabel just in time to see her grinning toothily – and rubbing the back of her neck yet again. "Uh, Mabel..."

"Wh-what?" she asked, becoming instantly defensive at the expression he gained. "Why are you looking at me like that?" It changed into something sadder and more concerned; it caused an upwelling of unhappiness as she contemplated why it was so familiar. The memory was a like punch to the gut. "I hate that look. That's the look you gave me that time mom got sick while we were in school!"

He cast his eyes aside at first, then turned fully away. "Mabel, you've been muttering and rubbing your neck for three hours. It's..."

"What?" she demanded, walking around to make him face her. "It's what?" Once again, she knew where he was going with his words, but this was a precipice she wouldn't jump off of without confirmation. " _Tell me, boy._ "

"I'm starting to think you're hallucinating," he said, moving over to sit at the little round wooden table. He received a look so vile it made his spine tingle. "Whoa! I'm not saying there isn't a reason for it!"

Nerves already frayed, Mabel would have none of his logic. "I just had this talk with Wendy, I'm  _not_  having it with you. Don't you..." She choked up, hiding her eyes with a sweater sleeve, "Don't any of you believe me?"

Her tone was heartbreaking, but the logic in Dipper urged him to press on with his line of thinking. "It's never touched you, right?"

She blinked, glancing to the side as she recalled her encounters. "Er, well, no."

He nodded; to Mabel, it seemed studious, as if he were a doctor diagnosing her. "And it disappears at random whenever you see it, doesn't it?"

"Y-yeah," she acknowledged, crossing her arms and staring at the floor.

"Maybe it's not real," he concluded, standing up and coming over to her. "It hasn't tried to hurt you. Fight it the next time you see it."

That was all well and good, but the emotional girl was now heading down a totally different path of fear. "You're going to send me away," she muttered anxiously. "To a...to an asylum or something." She tensed up when Dipper latched on in a hug. "Don't lie with your embraces! You are!"

"First, I'm twelve, I kind of don't have that authority," he said, muffled by her brown locks. "Second, I don't think you're crazy."

Desperate, she clung to him, if only to have a solid object with which to steady herself. "I don't like this, Dipper. I don't, I don't, I don't..."

Mabel was shaking so powerfully that he couldn't help but tremble along with her. "You sound exhausted. You need some sleep." Before she could even voice the question, he answered it. "I'll be around. Don't worry."

"F-f-fine," she sighed, allowing him to guide her up the stairs. Once they reached the attic, she shed her shoes and peeled off her sweater, then dropped to her knees and looked under her bed. Under it she went, coming out with her knitting kit. A few terrified glances confirmed it had not come again, so she exhaled loudly. "Good. We're cool," she mumbled, rubbing at her itchy neck.

"What are you gonna knit?" Dipper asked, already on his bed with a book in hand.

She got comfortable on her own mattress, plucked a blue ball of yarn from the basket, and started formulating a sweater in her mind. "Take a guess."

He couldn't help but shake his head. "You're gonna end up going home with more sweaters than you brought here."

"And that's awesome." Her hands were trembling; it was hard to get a rhythm once she had the yarn set in the needles. A few false starts later, she finally got going. The clacking noise managed to help her empty her mind, although the itch refused to go.

Dipper set aside his book to watch her. "Mabel, you're like a machine."

"You're good at dorky stuff. I'm good at sweaters and romance." She already had a sleeve produced, and paused to let loose a yawn. "Tired. This one's gonna have to wa—" Back she fell onto her pillow, unconscious before she was fully horizontal. Dipper shook his head and went to reading, but before long he too fell asleep.

Something woke her up some hours later, but she had no idea exactly what. A bitter chill enveloped her as she rose, looking around the dimly lit room. Outside in the yard, she could faintly hear Stan talking to his latest group of suckers. A look at the sky through the window indicated it was after sunset, although a wispy red glow was still hanging on to the starry night. Her neck itched still; she had to move the unfinished sweater to reach up and scratch it. Across the way, Dipper snored. She looked over.

It was standing by his bed, staring at her. With a layer of red over the terrible black, it looked more like a demon than ever. She tried to scream, but as with every other time her voice failed her. All she could do was tremble in bed and stare back. And yet, after a moment something spurred her. It was next to Dipper. If he woke up, he'd see it. It would haunt him too. She thought of his words and took a deep breath, realizing they offered what could be her only way out. She had to fight it.

"I'm not afraid of you," she murmured, sliding painfully off the bed and standing. The lie burned her lips as she let it pass, but she put on a brave face and moved closer. The nearer Mabel got, however, the worse the itch became, until it was a shrieking burn that blotted out the feeling in her limbs. "What do you want?"

It raised a featureless hand and pointed right at her.

"No," she denied it firmly. She fell to the floor and grimaced. Her extremities felt as if they were on fire. Her brain could barely get them to move. Determined to put herself between the eldritch beast and Dipper, she crawled past, using the edge of his bed to haul herself upright again. "Get out."

It stayed instead, leering over her from eight feet above.

"Y-you're not real!" Mabel's heart pounded in her chest, rattling her ribcage and causing her to feel faint. Even her exclamation was reduced to a hoarse whisper. It felt like her body was detaching from the neck down. "Just a story..." As her speech slurred, she could no longer deny the truth. Weakly, she latched on to Dipper's arm and tried to shake him awake. "Dipper, help," she whispered, tears streaming from her eyes. She couldn't look away from its non-face, even though the sight caused her terrible fear. "Dipper, please. Dipper. My brain is crying." Those last four words were not really her own; they were her mind's attempt to label the sensations it felt. Mabel kept on shaking her brother, but the motion was so pathetic he barely moved. "Dipper. Dipper."

It drew closer to them, floating over the floorboards like a ghost.

Mabel's eyes began to cross. Consumed with terror, she looked up and started to sob. "What do you want?"

It pointed down at her again. Its index finger nearly touched the tip of her nose.

"What if I say no?" she asked, still trying to be brave. It pointed at Dipper, who was still snoozing away despite her best efforts. This was the breaking point. A course of action became immediately clear, even if it crushed her with sadness. "O-okay. You can have me, but give me time to write a note first."

It hovered backward toward the door, and along with it went the loss of control that crippled Mabel's body. Gasping for air, she stumbled to her nightstand and pulled out a notepad and pen. She was unable to produce the adorable, girly scribbles she normally wrote with, and ended up laying a single line of text on the paper instead. "Okay. Do your worst, faceless jerk."

It motioned for her to follow, waving its arm in grotesque circles as the joints it should have had seemed not to exist. It went right through the closed door. Mabel slipped on her shoes and started to pursue, but paused to take a long look at her sleeping brother.

"One day, you'll understand. I hope."

Dipper wouldn't wake for another two hours. Like Mabel, he couldn't quite place what made him stir. A glance across the room revealed nothing amiss in the darkness, so he took his sweet time stretching and dealing with the groggy feeling. Once fully alert, he hopped out of bed. "Hey, you asleep?" he asked gently. No reply came, so he shrugged and started toward the door. That's when he saw the paper on the floor, a white rectangle against the dark wood, and blinked. "Huh?" He bent down and grabbed it, then walked back over and used his reading light to see. His heart leaped into his throat, even before he fully read the words. The handwriting was hardly legible – he'd watched enough crime dramas on TV to know that Mabel had written this under extreme stress. "Dipper, I'm sorry, but he says it's time to go. I love you." He dropped the note and flew out of the room, tearing through the house on a search for his sister. Everywhere he looked yielded nothing; finally he burst out of the house and ended up in the yard, trembling with panic. "M-Mabel?" he asked, looking up at the new moon.

* * *

Across town, Gideon Gleeful sat in his bedroom at the wooden desk, clutching a black orb in his chubby right hand. Peering into it, he could see a frightened Mabel from a perspective several feet off the ground, walking toward him but never growing any closer. The edges of the image were fuzzy and gray, but on occasion a tree would pass by and be visible.

"That's it, my dear. Keep following him. Oh my, this little doohickey is amazing." On the desk in front of him was the open  _2_ , turned to a page with a diagram of a brain stem along with some hard-to-read writing and other diagrams. "A jewel that can make people see what I want  _and_  manipulate their central nervous system? My, my. What a useful little thing you are." He looked down at it in his palm and smiled. "And you'll make a fine new bolo tie." He changed his focus back to the image itself and sighed. "Forgive me, Mabel. The carrot failed, so I was forced into using the whip. I'll apologize once I get to the factory. I am terribly sorry about frightening you." He steered the faceless figure around a patch of brambles. "My old amulet was a trinket compared to this." He began to giggle almost uncontrollably. "I can just imagine it now. 'Oh no, my house is haunted!' Then here comes little ol' me to the rescue. Gideon Gleeful: Ghost Eradicator. Hee hee hee hee!"

He continued steering the apparition, frowning lightly whenever Mabel began to cry. "Oh, darling. Don't be sad. You will live a life of luxury for the rest of your days. And thanks to you bein' a proof of concept, why, this town will be mine. Ours. It'll be ours. That little Northwest wench will never trouble you again, my dear. We will rule this town, side by side."

The factory was coming into view. He watched Mabel's reaction, but it became clear fast that she was still too afraid to piece together what was going on. "Good. Keep walking. You're almost there. Soon, you'll be my queen, whether you like it or not.  _Forever._ And if your brother or Stanford tries to split us apart again, well...I'll scare them right out of their skins. Heh.  _Literally_."


	2. Chapter 2

Mabel knew they were approaching a building, but the dim light of the waxing moon made it hard to recognize. Her captor would fade in and out of view at intervals, appearing nearby – too near, as its presence made her legs go numb – whenever she was going in the wrong direction. She had suffered several cuts and scrapes on their journey through the trees. The individual stings added up to something that was enough to make her hiss when too many of them were brushed or contacted.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, for the fourth or fifth time. Part of her knew better than to expect an answer, but another wanted something to think about besides the image of her brother being alone. "I know you've got no mouth, but can't you use telepathy or something? Talk into my brain." She tapped the side of her head like a microphone. Nothing happened, and she heaved a bitter sigh. "I m-miss Dipper...I miss Grunkle Stan..."

It turned in response to her whining, forcing her to stop on the road and shrink back. Even though it lacked any means of expression, it was putting off an angry vibe. At least, that's how it felt – Mabel's nerves were burning from the neck down, rendering her immobile.

"Wh-what? What did I say?" She stumbled back as it floated closer, setting her body aflame with agony. "No! Please! I'm sorry!" She didn't know what to apologize for, so she decided to cover all her bases. "I'm sorry for everything ever! Please don't hurt me!" It took all her strength to simply drop down and cower, hands over her head.

The gesture worked. It floated ahead of her, visually dragging itself along the dirt while making no noise with the action. Gulping for air, Mabel scrambled to her feet and toddled along after it, feeling faintly dizzy. Every once in a while, she would catch a whispered word in one ear or the other. The last of these that was audible seemed to be the word 'sorry'. Blinking with surprise, Mabel drew as close as she could without losing her legs and looked up at it. "Did you just apologize to me?"

It turned like a hurricane and charged her, getting so close it smashed her thoughts into a flat mess of terror. She lost her ability to speak as it towered directly over her, forcing her to crumple to the ground and curl into a trembling ball. She was mouthing words with no sound attached, saying anything she could think of to get it go away. Just as the edges of her sight were beginning to go black, it drifted back again. It took her several seconds to recover, but not wanting to make it unhappy again she crawled in pursuit until she was able to walk. "Okay, no talking to you. At all," she stuttered, the words interspersed with unhappy sobs. "I'm sorry for that too. R-r-really sorry."

Thankfully the faceless thing did not charge her a third time. They continued on to the factory's entrance, and for the first time Mabel got a good look at the building. "Hey...this looks-" It turned to look at her, so she slammed a hand over her mouth and cringed. It faded right through the doors, leaving her to run up and open one before she could follow. "Seriously," she whispered to herself, "I've got the deja vuvuzelas here." After tripping over a clump of Gideon dolls and picking one up, it hit her. "412 Gopher Road? Why the heck-"

It snapped its head back without turning and stared her down. She threw the doll away and squeaked. "Pl-please," she barely managed to wheeze out, trying to head off the pain before it came. The faceless thing pointed to a corner in the back, where a little bed had been made up. "Wha?" Even though it was just an expression of surprise, she cowered in preparation for a bad reaction. It didn't come, so she relaxed – slightly. More whispers tickled her ears, the word 'stay' being chief among them. "Stay here. Okay." It took all her power to not ask why. She skittered over to the bed, made a face at the Gideon-emblazoned blanket and pillowcase, and hopped on. "Okay. Got it. Stay here for the night and don't ask why and – oh...I did." She began to sniffle and hid her face. "I didn't mean to!"

The thing did not attack, however. It floated back through the double doors and vanished, leaving her alone.

Mabel watched those doors for several minutes, waiting for it to appear out of nowhere and torment her further. When it did not, she finally regained some of her emotional sparkle. "I just got kidnapped by a guy with no face. At least he cares enough to know I need sleep." Her stomach began to rattle. She placed a hand on it and looked down. "Dang. I shoulda snatched that leftover pizza and brought it. Silly Dip, eating all-"

A noise caught in her throat, something halfway between a surprised yelp and a grieving sob. The thought of her brother brought the whole weight of her situation down; it was such a mass that it shattered her heart and sent her to sobbing. "Di-Dipper!" she wailed, unable to bear the image of him finding and reading her hasty note. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. It'll be okay. It'll be...it'll..." Her face dropped into blankness as she tried to think of a positive endgame. No matter how much effort she put into this task, none would come. "I'm never gonna see him again. I'm never gonna see any of them again." Speaking the words was taxing, but hearing them nearly broke her. She kept on crying, but the sobs stopped; there was nothing left for her to give physically. Defeated, she slid around on the bed until she could get under the blanket, and settled down to try and sleep.

Thwarted by the stress of continually expecting the faceless horror, and the sadness of her separation, that sleep would not come. She spent the better part of an hour weeping until an idea seized her and forced her upright. "Maybe it's gone now," she mumbled, trying to convince herself. She slipped out of the bed and began to tiptoe toward the double doors, glancing about furiously at every creak and rattle. Once she reached the doors, a genuine smile broke out on her face. "If I can just get out of here and back into the forest...wait, I'll be lost. But so will that thing! Maybe." Her face twisted with annoyance. "Better out there than in here, I guess." She reached for the handle.

Almost instantly, her arms went to jelly as the thing phased through and leered over her. Shrieking with fear, she scrambled away and dove into a pile of Gideon dolls, surprising herself with the speed of her movement. She poked her head up to see if it remained, but it had vanished again. Shaking, she stumbled out of the dolls and back to the bed.

"Always there," she whispered to herself, hiding under the covers. "He's always there! Always there...always there..." As pessimistic as she'd felt before, Mabel now felt utterly hopeless. Muttering repeatedly to herself, she tried again to sleep, but failed. She couldn't even keep up her weeping, and instead passed the minutes staring blankly into space, sniffling once in a while.

* * *

Stanford Pines sat in his chair in the living room with two problems currently on his plate. The first was the disappearance of his great niece, to which he'd been alerted by his extremely frantic great nephew. The second was the reason for that disappearance, something he'd learned only after twenty minutes of trying to decipher the boy's mile-a-minute babbling.

"Hold it, kid," he finally interjected, bringing Dipper to a halt in front of the TV. "You're tellin' me a guy in a suit with no face snatched Mabel?"

"Exactly!" Dipper nodded, just happy that his great uncle understood anything from the mess of emotion pouring out of his mouth.

Stan gave him a skeptical look; it was something Dipper wasn't unaccustomed to, but seeing it now made him upset. "And this guy can teleport around, disappear at will, and make people pass out. Just by bein' there and faceless and such. With his powers of creepy, I suppose."

Dipper took a breath so deep his lungs protested before walking over and standing beside the chair. "Grunkle Stan," he began, voice smooth as glass, "While I appreciate the fact that you tend to look upon my claims as unsubstantiated and outlandish-"

"I don't like it when you use the big words," Stan interrupted, leaning back and peering sideways at him.

Dipper kept on going. "-might I remind you that last week you  _punched a dinosaur in the face to save a pig_?" He concluded just long enough for Stan to rub the stubble on his chin and admit that fact with a nod. "Mhm. Now, let's go back and remind ourselves that some eldritch horror has taken your great niece. My sister. You've gotten dressed and driven into town for less when it comes to Mabel. Like the  _Gideon_ incident."

"To be fair, there was already a long and distinguished track record of hate for that little-" Dipper silenced him with a look so hard that he couldn't help but laugh nervously. "Point taken! Point taken."

"Good. Let's be sure we're on the same page. I'm going to find what took my sister, and when I do, I'm going to  _burn_   _it_. I'm going to burn it with extra-fiery fire." Dipper walked back to his former place in front of the TV, fists clenched. "Are you with me, or not?"

Stan swallowed hard, not sure whether to be more nervous for the vanished Mabel, or for the fact that Dipper was acting very un-Dipper like. "Look, kid, I get that you're upset, but-"

"There isn't a word in any dictionary on this  _planet_  to describe my feelings, Grunkle Stan."

Stan rose from his chair, adjusting his glasses and trying to sound as reasonable as possible. "Right. That's somehow incredibly terrifying. Of course I'm with you, but we can't call the cops and say that Slender what's-his-name snatched Mabel. They wouldn't believe us!"

"We're not going to call the cops."

The tone in Dipper's voice actually managed to make the hair on the back of Stan's neck stand up. "Oh, so I guess we're gonna go gallivanting off into the night, by ourselves, to fight this guy with the god-like powers. Brilliant plan."

"No." Dipper looked over at the phone. "I'm going to call Wendy, she's going to bring her laptop, and we're going to learn about the enemy."

"What? How?" Stan watched him stalk over and snatch the handset up, glancing at the buttons as he went about recalling the number of Wendy's cellphone.

"YouTube," he replied flatly, dialing the number. "Man, she's gonna kill me." He waited through several rings before looking over at his befuddled uncle. "We might have to drive over there and kidnap her. I told you you should have gotten a computer."

"Computers are expensive and also cost money," he retorted, folding his arms with a glower. "I'm gonna go put on that suit I wanted to wear at my funeral, because that sure looks like where this is gonna end."

Dipper shrugged off his complaint and continued to wait on the phone. After a few more rings, it finally picked up. "Hey, Wendy?"

As he expected, an unhappy Wendy Corduroy was on the other end. "Dipper Pines, it's like, eleven o'clock on the one night I was planning to get actual sleep. What the fudge?"

He dropped the quiet anger and went back to being himself – at least, as much of himself as he could manage with half of it missing. "I'm sorry about this, but we need your help. Your laptop, to be specific."

"You woke me up to ask me for  _that_?"

Rubbing at his eyes, he made a move to quell her anger before it caused him to get upset again. "It took her, Wendy."

"Whoa, man. That's hea—wait, what took her?"

"Here it comes," he muttered lowly, preparing himself for the reaction to his next words. "The faceless guy. And before you even say that I must be nuts, I know what it sounds like, but I swear that's what happened. She left a note referencing him."

There was a long, awkward silence before she spoke again. "Dude, I've never heard you sound this way before. Are you serious?"

He heaved a sigh and nodded despite her not being able to see it. "I'm a little bit stressed Wendy, juuuuust a little bit stressed, and I am heart attack serious. Yeah, I know it's supposed to be an urban legend or whatever, but now it's gotten too real for me to ignore. That's why I need your laptop. For research."

"Dude, if I hadn't seen those ghosts, I'd tell you to buzz off, but..."

"I know, believe me. I know how outlandish this sounds. But Mabel is out there somewhere, scared to death, and..." He had to pause for a moment because the picture made him feel weak. "You don't have to stay or anything, we just need your laptop."

Another period of silence arrived, this one a bit shorter and much less awkward than the first. "All right, man. You sound rough. I'll, uh, be over in a minute, I guess. By the way, your uncle knows about this, right?"

"Sure he does," Dipper confirmed, looking toward the stairs. "He's getting dressed to die as we speak."

"Cool. Wait, what?!"

"Sorry Wendy, gotta go! See you soon!" He hung up and wiped his brow. "This is probably the worst idea ever," he admitted, walking up the steps to retrieve his hat. "I'm not thinking clearly either, but..." He looked up as Stan came down the stairs, dressed in his usual black suit and red fez. "I didn't know you liked that outfit enough to be  _buried_  in it."

"The one I wanted to wear was full of moths," he shrugged. "Wendy coming over or what?"

"Yep." Dipper fell into the yellow chair to wait, but the lull allowed his anxiety to start consuming him. "Mabel, please be okay," he whispered, hiding his face in his hands.

While Stan saw the opportunity to be a good uncle, as usual he could not make himself seize it. He decided to wander into the kitchen instead and snatch a can of Pitt out of the old fridge. "What else do you know about this guy?" he asked, walking back into the living room.

"He drives people insane," Dipper replied, mind locked on the last meaningful conversation he'd had with his sister. "I should have known better," he added lowly, kicking himself for what he'd said.

"So if we don't die, we're gonna be lunatics. I shoulda gone on vacation with Soos." Stan's shoulders dropped as he watched Dipper grieve; finally, he realized he had to say something – or at least make an attempt. "We'll find her, kid. I don't know what's gonna happen when we do, but we'll find her."

"We better," the boy said harshly, although his anger was a device to contain the sadness, and not a genuine feeling. "Because if we don't..."

Silence fell. Neither of them were willing or able to confront that image, so they said nothing. They couldn't even manage to look at each other until a knock rang out at the door to the gift shop. Dipper was closest, so he got up and went to answer it.

A slightly more disheveled than usual Wendy was behind it, and waved when the door swung open. "Not how I expected to be spending my night." Under her left arm was a silver laptop. "I didn't even know you guys had internet out here."

"This place is a wi-fi hotspot. Ask him why," Dipper said, thumbing over his shoulder at Stan.

He shrugged, all the while wearing a sly smirk. "I wanna make sure the tourists can access online banking. I take all forms of money here, even the invisible ones."

"Why am I not surprised," she sighed, running a hand through her hair as she walked in. She lacked her hat and her earrings, and her jade shirt was not all the way buttoned up. After getting settled at the round table in the living room's stone-walled section, she opened the laptop and turned it on. "So, Dipper, what did you have in mind?"

"What was that series called? Marble Hornets?" he asked, pulling up a chair. He blinked at the strange look the redhead shot him. "What?"

"We're gonna watch videos to save your sister?" Wendy watched him as he tried to collect his thoughts and explain. The boy was a trembling mess; she was honestly surprised he hadn't burst into tears. As much as she wanted to point out the flaws in his plan, the look on his face stopped her.

"Do you have a better idea?" he choked out at length, tacking on a nervous laugh. "Because I sure don't!" He wrung his hands endlessly and put on an unnatural smile. "Seriously, do you? Anything?"

Stan and Wendy looked at each other for a few moments, then back at the unhappy Dipper. "Yeah. Find some flashlights," she finally said, shaken at his demeanor. She closed her laptop and stood up. "We're gonna find her the old fashioned way."

"I hope they charge to get into my wake," Stan grumbled, rubbing at his eyes. "Ha! What would I need the money for? Ah, they could just put it in my casket."

"I'll go get the flashlights," Dipper groaned, walking slowly away and up the stairs.

Wendy watched him go until he disappeared, then glanced over at Stan. "Man, I've never seen him like this."

"He just ain't good at hiding it," Stan replied, coughing a few times while shuffling his feet awkwardly. "Your dad isn't gonna drive over here and impale me on a tree, is he?"

"Please, Mister Pines. He doesn't even know I left." A shadow of a smirk flew across the redhead's face. It departed as Dipper returned, carrying three heavy flashlights. "Let's roll." They entered the gift shop.

"Oh boy," Stan muttered, taking a light from his nephew and looking through the door to the outside, which Wendy had left open after her arrival. "I'm gonna regret this. Then again, if I regret it, that means I lived!"

Wendy lead them into the woods. A light wind was rustling the branches. Above them, the weak light of the moon was extinguished as they went under the thick branches. At first they went along the path with the arrows, but upon finding nothing there they began to penetrate the deeper forest. Unlike the times Dipper had been out here alone or with Mabel, the going was a lot easier with the redhead in command. It got harder as the ground began to slope up, but she was able to find the easiest way through despite the terrain, the brambles, and the darkness.

"How well do you know these woods?" Dipper asked, sweeping his light around through the darkness.

"My family's been killing trees here since 1895. I might as well have been raised by the forest." She lifted a hand and got them to stop. "Wait. There's a cliff and a lake near here." She peered to her right, then snapped her wrist in the same direction. "This way." They walked for a few moments, the silence only broken, at intervals, by one of them yelling Mabel's name. Abruptly, Wendy stopped, shining her light on a tree trunk that was almost right beside her. "What was she wearing the last time you guys saw her?"

"Red sweater," Dipper said, walking over. "The one with the shooting-" He fell silent, eyes resting on the thing Wendy saw. Stan came over last, and the three of them looked at the sliver of red thread clinging to a splintered section of bark. "Mabel?!" He wandered off a ways and yelled her name again. "Mabel! Where are you?!"

"Think she fell off?" Stan asked, looking back the way they'd come. "'Cause, uh..."

"Dude, that is extremely not cool." Wendy gave him a sour look and glanced at Dipper as he yelled once more. "But you've got a point. Keep him distracted, I'm gonna go see. And don't tell him where I'm going." He nodded and walked off, leaving the redhead to collect herself and start moving away. "If I see her body, that's it. I'm done with everything." She weaved through the trunks until the trees ceased appearing and yielded to small stream. The sound of rushing water was close; she had ended up not thirty feet from the waterfall that fed the small lake. "All right," she muttered, taking a deep breath and holding it as she went over to the edge. She shone the light down into the pool and guided it around, ready to lose it if she saw anything red. The lake was empty, and she let the breath out as one loud, relieved noise. "Oh, thank god." She stood there to confirm her bearings before heading back, watching two other beams of light in the trees down below. As she did, an itch tickled the back of her head. "Better go deliver the good news."

Before she could get going, a loud yell grabbed her attention. This was Dipper, apparently reacting to something his great uncle had said. "What?!"

"Don't tell me he distracted him by telling him the thing I told him not to tell him," Wendy groaned, rolling her eyes. "I swear, he's as bad at being an uncle as my dad is at being a mom." Still scratching at her neck, she turned to re-enter the tree line and meet up with them.

The faceless one was the first non-tree object her flashlight beam landed on, towering between two cedar trees as it stared her down. At first she couldn't react; it was like her brain had disengaged from her body. She managed to keep a grip on the flashlight, but none of her other limbs worked. "Wh-what," she said to it, her lower lip trembling. "You're not...real?" She kept her beam on it, and it kept staring. "D-dude, this isn't happening." She finally turned to flee, but a whisper floated into her ears. "Leave," she repeated, looking back to see if it were still there. It was, tilting its head. "Crap!" She broke into a run, although it was unsteady at first, and nearly ran into several trees on her way back to where Stan and Dipper were. The closer she got, the easier it was to hear them; they were arguing about something, but Wendy's heart was pounding too hard for her to discern what. She slid to a stop next to Dipper, doubling over to catch her breath.

"What happened?" he asked, voice still ragged in tone from his discussion with Stan. When she didn't answer, he walked over and bent down to look up at her. "Wendy? You all right?"

"Saw it," she choked out, eyes bulging. "Saw it on the cliff edge. Between two trees. Oh man...oh man, it's real..."

"It's here?" Stan gulped, snapping his flashlight around. "Well, I'd say I have some things to get off my chest, but I'm gonna let my will do that talking for me."

"Where did you see it?" Dipper demanded simply, trying to be patient as Wendy gasped for air.

"Does it matter?" she managed to ask after some time. Her eyes betrayed that she already knew. When he wouldn't answer, she moved straight to an attempt at reasoning with him. "Dude, no! This thing can kill you with a snap of its fingers, man!"

Dipper wouldn't listen. He started up the slope to get to the cliff's edge, struggling with the undergrowth as he went. "I don't care any more. It has Mabel, and I'm going to finish this one way or another."

Stan was the first to give chase. "Can't let him bite it by himself, I guess," he grumbled, fighting the vines. "Wait! I can at least try to get a picture of it before we die!"

A stuttering Wendy was left behind, caught between helping her friends and the fact that doing so could end badly for her. A series of uncomfortable thoughts flooded her mind, and she had no idea how to deal with them. Helpless, she started talking to herself, walking slowly after the Pines as she babbled. "Not even gonna see my sixteenth birthday, am I? Nah, nah, that'd be too easy. I'll get the really bad ending where I just go insane and have to drive all over the country to get away from him. Oh yeah, that's what I'll get. Goodbye, dad. Goodbye, brothers." She tried and failed to restrain a sob. Of its own volition, her right hand went up to scratch her itchy neck. "If I did get iced, I wonder what my headstone would say? Probably something corny, knowing dad. Oh man, I can't handle this..."

She was so lost in her monologue she nearly walked right past Dipper and Stan. Upon registering their worried looks, she partially exploded. "I'm scared, okay?!" She hid her eyes for a second to stifle the tears, then gave up and dropped her arm. "Whatever. I guess it doesn't..." She trailed off as her flashlight beam lit up the faceless one again, this time perched behind a bush. Wide-eyed and shaking, she stumbled backwards. "N-n-no..."

Both Stan and Dipper spun and looked at where her light was shining, but neither saw anything. "Wendy, what? What do you see?" Dipper asked, moving his own beam around.

" _It's right there!"_ Wendy shrieked, pointing furiously at the empty spot. Her eyes saw it approaching, moving like a phantom through the night. The closer it got, the weaker her arms and legs felt. "Get away from me!"

"Uh?" Stan looked at his nephew, then over at the panicking girl. "Not sure what's happening here."

Wendy turned to run, but the faceless thing came up on her too quickly. She was rendered immobile and fell to the ground, twitching in agony. "H-help me," she wheezed, her lungs catching fire with every ragged gasp.

"That's it, we're bugging out!" Stan handed Dipper his flashlight and walked over to pick Wendy up off the ground. Once he got there, however, something made him pause. "Why is my neck itchy?" He glanced over and saw the faceless thing leering and jumped. "Whoa! Now I see—oh boy there goes my ability to do things."

"What?" Dipper looked up in time to see him topple over as well, landing on the ground next to Wendy. "Stan! What's happening?!"

"Not sure," he moaned, only able to glance around. "Muscles not really working at the moment!"

"Dipper, do something!" Wendy begged, squirming on the ground. "Make it stop!"

"I can't even  _see_  it," he yelped, terrified, but ran in their direction anyway. "Get away from them! Uh, if you're actually even near them, physically!" He swung his flashlights around in vain, trying to strike what he thought was an invisible opponent. He hit nothing but air and started to truly panic. "What am I supposed to do?!"

While Stan had been reduced to aimless babbling, Wendy was still coherent enough to plead with the faceless thing towering directly above her. "Dude, please..." she wailed, using all her available strength to look up. "We'll go, just...let us...go..."

"Who is  _talking_  to me?" Dipper blurted out, snapping his head in circles as the whispers began to assault him. He slammed a hand to his neck and rubbed furiously. The faceless one suddenly appeared to him as well, felling him with instant burning agony. "Gaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

"Crap," the redhead breathed, reaching the end of her strength. She looked up one last time and emitted something like a sigh. "I'm coming, mom." The three of them passed out at roughly the same time, laying in a pile on the mossy earth.

Behind them, Gideon slid out from behind a tree, clutching the black jewel in his left hand. "Oh my word, it's even more effective if you have line of sight. And it works fine on multiple targets, too." He giggled lowly to himself, looking at the unconscious trio. He gave the Pines an evil smirk, but frowned a bit at Wendy. "Beg your pardon Miss Corduroy, you're simply collateral damage. I'll find some way to make it up to you after my work is complete." With some effort and more than a few grunts, he wandered up to the clearing where he'd first encountered the redhead and looked across the lake. The silhouette of his factory was dimly visible in the light. "Well, time to get back home for my beauty sleep. Want to look my best when I call on Mabel in the morning."

* * *

Mabel stumbled out of the restroom, rubbing at her eyes. They tingled with the vague sensation of not enough rest. She looked up at the rear windows and saw a faint bluing of the sky outside. "First day of no more fun ever," she sighed, glancing around the empty building. A large warehouse ladder was perched under one of the windows on the back wall; not knowing what else to do to occupy herself, she shuffled over and climbed it to see what she could see. Her heart was looking for the Mystery Shack, but the endless waves of fir and pine defeated her attempts to find it. She instead found herself looking east into the burgeoning sunrise. It was just enough to put something of a smile back on her face. "Pretty!" The happiness was fleeting. The back of her mind chimed in and reminded her about the faceless thing. "I'm p-probably not supposed to be up here anyway." She carefully descended and moved toward the bed. Just as she sat down on it, a sharp series of noises from the other end of the space attracted her attention. Someone had opened the door. Unwilling to move from the one spot she assumed was safe from the thing, Mabel decided to let the arrival come to her.

Gideon walked into view a minute later, whistling a little tune to himself. He was clad in his usual suit, but Mabel noticed a new bolo tie with a shining black stone as the clasp. "Why, Mabel! What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone a little too surprised to be genuine.

She was too exhausted, mentally and physically, to pick it up. "It brought me here. I dunno why. Just kinda waiting around for it to haunt me again!" She laughed, but it was an unnervingly hollow noise. "You'd better scram. It'll probably eat you too."

"It doesn't appear to have eaten  _you_  yet," he pointed out, moving nearer. "Huh, I look good on those pillowcases. I'll never understand why they weren't selling terribly well."

Mabel shook her head and pointed back toward the door. "Seriously, go. You might be my mortal enemy, but I wouldn't even wish this on you. I can't believe I really mean that." Her face went blank as she mulled it over. With a nod, she pointed again. "Go on, get. Shoo. I can't be saved." She sobbed once at the realization striking again, but choked it down with a smile.

A faint smirk appeared on his face as he reached up to clutch the black jewel. "You're more right than you might think," he whispered, activating its power.

The itch flared up with a bitter vengeance; a second later Mabel's eyes saw the thing appear right behind him. "No! No! Gideon, run!" she screeched, pointing frantically with both hands. She tumbled off the far side of the bed with a pained grunt, but decided to stay on the floor and hide. "Please, no, please, I'm sorry, please!"

Startled by the agony in her tone, Gideon released the jewel and darted over to the bed. "It's all right!"

"No it isn't!" she yelled back, trying hard to shove herself under the bed. All he could see was her wiggling legs. "It never leaves me alone! It never leaves me alone!"

Growing even paler than usual, Gideon started to glance around. "Perhaps I didn't think this through." He watched the trapped Mabel wail and struggle for a moment before moving around to try and free her. She kicked him three times before he managed to pull her free. "Mabel, just calm down for a second!"

By the glazed-over look in her eyes, it was clear that Mabel had already fallen off the edge. "I can't do it," she droned. "I can't. I can't live like this." She slipped out of his grasp and stumbled over to the warehouse ladder, dragging herself up the steps. "I can't.  _I can't_!"

"Mabel, wait!" He waddled after her as fast as his stubby legs would take him, but she had reached the top by the time he got there. "Mabel Pines, get down here!"

She was busy struggling to get the heavy window open. "Can't do it. Can't do it." It was almost as if what happiness she still had were draining away with the color that left her cheeks. At last she got the thing to push out and up; upon looking down, she saw a small patch of grass and the sheer drop into the woods just beyond. "That'll work! Goodbye, everybody. Mabel out." She got her head out the window into the cool air and took a long breath.

"It was me!"

She was just about ready topple over the edge when Gideon's words stilled her. Snatching onto the frame, she pushed herself back and looked down at him. "What did you say?"

Sweating with anxiety, he pointed at the black jewel. "Watch!" He touched it and it appeared to her again, standing beside him. "See? It's just little ol' me!"

The physical sensation was more tolerable with the distance between it and her, but that relief was lost in a swarm of confusion. "You did this?"

"Sure," he chirped. "No need to worry about some dark creature from the depths of fear haunting your dreams." He let go of the jewel and it vanished, as did the burning at the base of her skull. "There we go. Now get down from there and stop being so dramatic."

It was mostly due to repeated exposure to Gravity Falls that her two-day long nightmare suddenly dispersed. As far as she was concerned, this was the best news she could have heard. A bright smile spread across her face as she began to climb down, but she stopped halfway after running into a brick wall of realization. "Wait. You did this to me?" she asked, looking down at him again. He nodded happily, but she didn't move. As confusion had yielded to relief, relief was beginning to yield to something else. "Y-you..."

Gideon stepped back from the ladder, wiping his forehead. "Now I know you might be upset, but hear me out."

The rapid twitching of Mabel's left eye said that the time for discussion had probably passed. In an almost dainty fashion, she scaled the ladder, hopping off the final step and staring the psychic down. "You drove me almost nuts, kidnapped me, and let me think I was gonna live the rest of my life alone and terrified of like,  _everything in the whole world_?!" Every word was suffixed with a threatening step forward.

"Sort of?" was all he had to offer, hands raised as he backed away.

Another bout of eye twitching struck; almost on their own her fingers curled into angry claws. She had never felt so mad at anything or anyone in her life, and that emotion fueled muscles she didn't even know were there. Silent, she launched herself at Gideon and wrapped her hands around his neck while knocking him over. All he could do was gurgle and thrash, but Mabel's rage converted itself to shocking strength. "I thought it was over, you little jerk! I thought I was never gonna see my family again! I thought I was never gonna get  _sleep_  again!" Gideon emitted a series of odd little squeaks as she tried to bash his head against the floor. He finally said something that made her stop long enough for him to speak more clearly.

"Wait!" he coughed. "I had no intention of leaving you alone!"

"Oh no?" Mabel glared down at him, letting him speak only so he could recharge her wrath. "What were you planning then, huh?"

Gideon succumbed to his wordy tendencies and couldn't help but let it all spill out. "I was only going to force you to be mine forever! While ruling the town, of course. And also humiliating Stanford and your brother at every possible opportunity. And..." he trailed off, watching Mabel's left eye squint almost closed. "Oh my, I really should shut up now."

She removed her right hand from his neck and drew it back, clenching it into a fist. Gideon stared at it and assumed it was probably going to kill him on impact, given the fit of hate-stained giggling that had now overtaken her. Unfortunately for Mabel, readying an attack left him free to grasp the jewel. She shrieked as it appeared again – more out of physical distress than fear – and fell off of him as her limbs turned to jelly. "That's enough of that," he grumbled, dusting off his jacket and sitting up. "Why must you be so emotional?"

"You...you're the buttfaciest buttface that ever buttfaced," she hissed weakly, trying to roll over on her back. All she could manage was slow squirms on the floor. "Turn it off! You're hurting me!"

"Oh, I will...just as soon as I get these handcuffs on you." After making sure the jewel was on standby, he released it and reached into his jacket.

"Who carries handcuffs?!" Mabel gritted her teeth and struggled against the burning. For the briefest instant, her face went blank. "I mean, besides c-cops." Her arms were limp, but she could still detect Gideon cuffing them behind her back. "Let me go!"

"Yeah, no. Now, here's what's gonna happen, sweetie." He deactivated the jewel's power and sat down next to her. She tried to kick him over her shoulder and ended up flopping about like a fish. "Adorable. Are you hungry?"

"I wanna go home!" she yelled, rolling over and over as she tried to inflict harm on the psychic. "I wanna kill you first, actually,  _then_  I wanna go home!"

He haughtily straightened his tie and smirked. "So sprightly. I'm going to town and get us something to eat, all right? Then when I come back, we're going to have a nice meal which will involve no kicking or attempting to murder me, hmm?"

Mabel continued to writhe on the floor. "I will punch you in the hair until I break my hand or you go bald!"

"Biscuits it is, then. I'll be back in a jiffy, honey!" He rose and started toward the door, chased every step of the way by Mabel's howling wrath. "Oh, by the way," he began, turning around, "If you should try to escape, I'll just have to use this on Dipper." An evil grin curled his lips as she froze. "That's what I thought."

It was only a prelude to an entirely new level of anger. She flopped around again, trying desperately to wrench her hands free of the cuffs. "You leave him alone!" she shrieked. "I'll eat you!"

"Mhm. Be good!" he chirped, disappearing out the door with a wave.

Mabel had only a moment's more worth of angry squealing left before falling still, exhausted. She was unused to being this mad at anything; it left her burnt out and almost too weak to move. "The floor is cold," she whined, voicing the first thing that popped into her tired head. Her stomach rattled so loudly it made her blink with surprise. "Ugh. Fine, I'll eat his food, but then I will find some way to  _kill his face_." She tried to move her arms, only to cringe in pain at how restrictive the cuffs were. "Dang it. I think my hands are gonna fall off." Her stomach growled again. "Shut up, me. I heard you the first eight times."

Helpless, she laid there and tried to find a comfortable position, but the floor was too hard and her arms were hurting too much for her to get settled. As the sun began to pour into the back windows, she sighed and resigned herself to waiting. "At least I  _know_  the enemy now."

* * *

When consciousness found Dipper again, its arrival was heralded by an oddly wet sensation on his right hand. He looked down and saw Waddles licking his fingers, but was too groggy to process where he was. Only after blinking for a while did he figure out that he was in the old yellow chair in the living room. The pig was at his feet, just barely able to reach his hand to lick it. "Ungh? How did I get back here?" His next thought concerned Stan and Wendy; he slid quickly out of his seat and prepared to search the house for Wendy and Stan. He didn't need to go far; they were seated at the round table to his right, busy with the former's laptop until she noticed he was conscious.

"Welcome back, dude," she said with a wave. Her eyes were weary, as was her smile. "Nice nap?"

He patted himself repeatedly, almost as if he were using the motions to run a self-check of his physical well-being. "No. No, I'm still exhausted. I feel like I did the opposite of sleeping without being there to see it."

"Same," she agreed, rubbing at her face. "Stan and I were just watching something."

"Huh?" He came over and peered at the laptop. "YouTube? I thought we weren't-"

"My plan didn't work so well," Wendy said, interrupting him. She tried to smile, but it came out as a pathetic half-grin. "Decided to try yours."

"I didn't even have a plan, so you won by default," Stan added. "When this is over, I'm thinking about putting a Slender-fake in the museum. This guy is terrifying."

Dipper glared lightly at him. "I don't think Mabel would appreciate that." Waddles was nudging him in the shin, and when Dipper looked the pig stared back. He could almost see the worry in those beady eyes. "I know, man. We'll find her." The pig started to nibble at his sock. "Um. She was not joking about you eating everything in sight, was she?" He gently poked Waddles onto his side, where he kicked his legs through the air trying to walk. He shook his head and looked back up. "How did we get home?"

"I came to first," Stan replied, standing and stretching. "I couldn't carry both of you, so I waited for Wendy to wake up. Besides, I wasn't sure where we were. Had to wait for her anyway. She lead me back."

Dipper nodded and glanced off to the side. "Right. You had to carry me, I guess?"

Wendy winked at him, finally achieving the smirk she'd sought before. "Yeah. You weren't heavy, though."

"Wh-wh-" Dipper's face exploded into a mighty blush as he went over her words. He turned his back to them and tried to collect himself. "Right! Thanks for, uh, for carrying me back." He shook his surprise off, forcing his mind to drift back to more important matters. As Stan returned to his seat, Dipper took an empty chair and brought it around to sit as well. "What have you found out so far?"

"Where do I even start? He screws up complicated electronics, brainwashes people into doing stuff, teleports, drives people off their rockers, warps time, and I'm pretty sure he kills. A lot. Lot of implied murder in these." He was ticking off the thing's attributes on his fingers, but Dipper's reaction to the last made him stop before he added more. "Sorry. Didn't mean to go there." There was a delay before the weight of the image hit him, causing a powerful frown. "Really sorry."

Dipper couldn't deal with the picture. He yanked his cap down over his face in an attempt to muffle his crying. "What if it's too late? What if..." He doubled over and wept for a while. Wendy and Stan looked at each other, unsure of what to do. "Mabel, I'm sorry I didn't believe you. I'm so sorry."

The redhead was the first to make herself move. She reached over and started patting him on the shoulder. "It's not over, man. You've got that twin radar, right? You'd know if something happened to her."

"Yeah, you two are always finishing each other's sentences," Stan nodded, trying his best to sound encouraging. "And the way you can tell exactly where in the house one of you is with no outward indications. That's scary. How do you even do that?"

Dipper managed to snort once, but the tears were still flowing. "I wish it were working now. I feel so lost. This place feels so empty without her."

"...it is kinda quiet," Stan admitted, shedding his glasses with a scowl. "I guess I might really miss your sister. She was the annoyingly adorable light in my money-grubbing life."

He started to cry as well, leaving the redhead to feel incredibly depressed. Before she let herself completely fall prey to the feeling, however, she took a long, deep breath and snapped them out of it, quite literally, then pointed back at her laptop. "Stop that. We have to figure out some way to fight him."

"How do you fight something that isn't supposed to exist?" Dipper groaned with frustration, allowing his head to drop onto the table. "She has to be so scared." He squeezed his eyes shut and growled. "And we all got knocked out so easily! Some heroes."

"Maybe we should talk about that whole getting knocked out thing," Wendy offered. "I've seen stuff like it in these videos, but I don't think what happened to me is the same."

That revelation managed to get Dipper to raise his head, at least. He looked over at her and dried his face. "What do you mean?"

"I got this weird itch on my neck before it all went down." She rolled her eyes around, looking for the right words to describe it. "Not an itch. Kinda tingly, I guess? Right here." She turned her head and moved her hair, pointing at the base of her skull. "And somebody was whispering to me, too. Next thing I know, bam! There he is."

Dipper sat straight up as his mind ran over the sequence of events. "Mabel said the same thing. I think I felt it too, just before he showed up and my body decided to quit working." He looked at Grunkle Stan for confirmation and received it via a nod. "Wait right here. I have an idea." He darted out of the living room with Waddles slowly following him, but he was so fast that he beat the pig up the stairs, which forced him to wait at the bottom and oink with displeasure. When Dipper returned, he gave the animal a quick pat on the head. "Sorry, man. Come on."

Wendy and Stan watched him return and sit. Waddles indeed tagged along, flopping over beside his chair on the floor. "Okay." He drew  _3_  from his vest, set it before him and turned it to the last page that didn't contain his own notes. "Trust no one," he read out loud. There were other words tacked on – in small, awkward writing – which he hadn't paid much mind to until now. He also spoke them. "Not even your own senses."

"Well, that's freaky," the redhead gulped. "What are you thinking?"

Truth be told, Dipper himself hadn't completed the full line of thought. In fact, if either of his companions looked at his eyes for more than a second, they would've been able to see the concepts forming in his brain and lining up into a neat little theory. This took him nearly thirty silent seconds to arrange, during which Stan and Wendy shot worried glances at each other. "Wendy saw it first, but neither of  _us_  could see it until we heard the whispering and that weird itchy feeling happened. This line leads me to believe that there's something around here which might be able to manipulate what the mind perceives as reality."

Stan replaced his glasses and shrugged. "Assuming we believe the weird book you dug up in the forest, where would we even look for such a thing?"

Dipper had no answer for him at first, but over time his saddened face became intensely unhappy. He hearkened back to something Mabel told him; it was another dot to connect, whose implications made him gnash his teeth. "I know where to start." That hard look softened as he turned his eyes to the redhead. "Wendy, I can't ask you to come along. It might get really rough. You've already done so much for us."

"Before you tell me to get lost, at least tell me what you think is goin' on, man," she protested gently. "You look like you've got it pretty well figured out."

He adjusted his hat and stood dramatically, eying each of them in turn. "It's just wild speculation at the moment, but if I want to confirm any of it, I need to pay a visit to our good friend Gideon."

* * *

Meanwhile, the chipper psychic was just opening the factory's door, holding a bag in his right hand. He discovered Mabel on the floor approximately where he'd left her, although by now that spot was drenched in the sunshine. She lay there, still and panting for air. After getting closer, he could see that she was sweating profusely.

"Help, Mabel is frying," she gasped, wiggling slowly. "I'm done on this side. At least flip me onto my belly."

Shaking his head, he grabbed her foot and started to drag her into the shade. She perked up a bit after getting out of the sun, but that energy went to sitting up and regarding him with an unhappy sneer. "Who's hungry?" he sang, waving the bag over her.

Her stomach growled in response. "Um...m-me," she admitted grudgingly, eyes downcast. "What did you get?"

"Just a moment. I didn't know if you were a vegetarian or not, so...egg and cheese!" He produced a wrapped biscuit from the bag and smiled. The smell made Mabel drool. "Oh goodness, you  _are_  hungry."

"I love those!" she blurted out. "I love all food right now so much. I haven't eaten in years." She nodded over her shoulder, indicating the handcuffs. "Gonna spring me so I can nom, or what?"

He gave her a suspicious look and withdrew the biscuit, causing her to whine unhappily. "That depends. Are you still plotting to murder me?"

"Absolutely!" she said, nodding hard for a moment, then pausing. "Uh, I meant...noooooo! Never." Seeing it was too late, she slumped over in defeat. "Please? I think my wrists are bleeding."

He moved around to check. They weren't cut, but were very red and irritated. "Oh, all right. If you try and choke me again, we're going to have a problem." He set the bag down and reached into his jacket for the key. "Stop wiggling, you're making this difficult."

Once they were unlocked, she snapped her hands around front and rubbed at them. A series of unhappy hisses escaped her lips. "Aaaaah, ooh. Ow. Ow. Eeeeee." She checked the nicks and cuts on her legs. "I'm gonna have so many scars. Do guys like scars?"

"I'd like your scars." Gideon came back around and sat at a short distance, watching her carefully. She failed to lunge at him, so he allowed himself to relax. "Here, time to eat."

She snatched the biscuit away from him and unwrapped it so fast it nearly flew right out of her hands. One massive bite later, she was saying something happily which was muffled by the food.

"How lovely," he smirked. He watched her swallow with an obnoxious noise, then peer right at him. "Eh? What?"

"We can't keep doing this. Me being awesome, you being insanely obsessive. It has to stop being a thing now." She nodded once and took another large bite. "Oh, this is soooooo good." Her face dropped briefly as she got an idea. "Hey, you should date Pacifica! You'd make a scary couple."

"Oh my, no. The Northwests and I don't get along. Something about old money versus new. Besides, she's not really my type." Gideon placed a hand to his forehead and sighed.

Mabel nodded as she chewed. "That makes sense. I don't think I'd wanna date her either. She seems to hate everybody."

He suddenly poured on the cuteness as he sat there. His eyes shone as he pouted. "Besides, you can't ask me to find a replacement, Mabel dearest. You're too perfect. I'd never meet anyone else like you."

She swallowed and gave him an odd sort of grin. "That's almost nice, except you're being creepy and I hate your guts." Gideon pouted even harder, but she brushed off his sad look and grumbled. "No, I'm serious. I now contain hatred for you unlike any I have ever felt before in my life, I just can't be outward about it for so long. Gotta revert to ninja girl rage to save my energy."

Gideon did his best to ignore the rejection and cleared his throat. "Well, that's fine. We have all the time in the world to turn that internal frown upside down." He grumbled at her blank stare. "What now, woman?"

She continued to stare a hole in him, eventually folding her arms. "You're not hearing me. This is not a situation we can work out. You tried to  _kill_  Dipper, then you  _kidnapped_  me. Ain't how you court a lady, yo."

His temper was beginning to take over; instead of trying to suppress it, he decided to put his foot down. "You'll either be my queen or your brother will pay," he threatened, fingering the jewel in his tie. He smiled at the squeak of terror that drew from Mabel. "No, let me be honest with you. I've already used it on him. You should have seen the look on his face."

Like a spring uncoiling she flung herself at Gideon, screeching with wrath. He managed to activate the jewel just in time and flatten her with its power, although he injected no illusion into her head to accompany the force. "He's gonna find me! And when he does, he's gonna beat you with your own stupid suit!" She fought against the burning pain with all her might, but it wore her down within ten seconds and left her a twitching wreck. "He'll...come for me..."

Gideon cackled at her as she lay on the ground at his feet. "I invite him to  _try_ , my dear."

"He will!" she snarled, although by this point she was unable to even raise her head. "He..."

The psychic leaned down, tilting Mabel's chin up so she was looking right at him. From this close range, the power of the jewel washed out her ability to sense anything, to move anything. No longer capable of thought, she gazed at him with empty eyes and a slack jaw. "Listen well, Mabel Pines. Your brother can't stop me. Neither can Stanford." He leaned in even closer, flashing a hateful smirk. Mabel couldn't detect it, but blood was starting to trickle from her eyes. "However, if by some miracle they figure out where you've gone, keep this in mind: if I can't have you,  _no one will_."


	3. Chapter 3

When Gideon arrived back home, he was more than a little surprised to see Wendy waiting on his front porch. Instantly, his suspicions of being found out were aroused, but the teenager didn't seem agitated enough for that to be the reason for her presence. She acted as she always did in the few times the psychic had seen her: looking around with half-lidded boredom, an idle smile plastered on her lips.

"Hey, little guy," she said, throwing her hand up in greeting as he drew close. "We need to talk."

She didn't sound terribly upset, either, although as he drew closer he could see undeniable weariness on her face. "Well, hello Miss Wendy. What can I do for you?"

"I think you owe me a bottle of moisturizer," she said nonchalantly, staring off toward the car dealership. "Seriously, can't you buy your own?"

He coughed once or twice as if clearing his throat; the noise twisted into an odd laugh. "I do apologize." He reached into his jacket and produced a hundred dollar bill, which he handed up to the redhead. "There we are. All settled?"

She took the money, glancing down at the shining black orb. "I guess. Hey, did you hear about Mabel?"

"What about her?" he replied instantly, causing Wendy's eyebrow to cock in surprise. He cough-laughed again, tugging at his collar.

"Somebody kidnapped her, apparently." She shrugged her shoulders and took a few steps toward the front yard. "I'm pretty upset about it, but not nearly as much as...well, I'm sure you'll see for yourself." She tilted her head at the front door.

"Eh?" Gideon waddled past and nudged the portal open. Dipper and Stan were perched on the sofa; when he appeared they locked on and stared at him. "Isn't this peachy." Wendy heard him mutter, forcing him to flash a sugary-sweet smile up at her. "I suppose they think it's my fault, as usual. I'd better go see to their wild accusations. Good day, Miss."

He moved to go inside, but to his surprise Wendy was right on his tail. "Yeah, I'm not quite finished," she said, the undertone of her words enough to make his spine tingle slightly. As bad as that was, however, nothing could compare to the infinite well of disgust that poured from Dipper's brown eyes.

"Gideon," was all he managed to say as the psychic sat down.

He looked at them in turn, donning his professional demeanor. To do anything less would have lead to an angry outburst. "Stanford. Dipper. Whatever you two think I might have done, I didn't."

Stan set aside his eight-ball cane and peered across the coffee table. "Haven't even accused you yet, short stuff."

"Don't be coy with me, Stanford. I know what you're thinking. I especially know what  _he's_ thinking." Gideon glanced over at Dipper, who hadn't made a noise so far. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Hit 'em, kid," Stan encouraged, leaning back against the sofa so the focus would go to his nephew.

He still didn't speak, instead drawing  _3_  from inside of his vest. "I'm going to get straight to the point. I know you have a book like this. Mabel told me before she disappeared."

Gideon began to sweat, staring at the damaged journal. "What are you insinuating, boy?"

Dipper put the book away and proceeded to spit ice from his lips. "You were the last person she spoke to besides me. You realize how that looks. What's in it, Gideon? Is it enough for you to do something so low?" He was shaking by the time his words ran out. As he attempted to collect himself, he noticed the new bolo tie but decided to say nothing about it.

The psychic hissed his reply. "How dare you. I love Mabel more than anything! I'd never-"

"You tried to kill me. Us! I'd have to be on drugs to buy  _that_  from you, man." Dipper gritted his teeth after he finished. It was clear the strain was taking a severe toll on him; so clear that Wendy, standing in the corner, waved his attention over to give him a smile. He smiled back – it was just enough to get him steady again – then shot a bitter look at Gideon. "I can't put anything past you, you little creep."

They exchanged a long glare, through which a silent accounting of their history flowed. "Listen, boy. We might have a past, but..." he trailed off as Dipper stood up.

"If you call me boy again, I'm going to feed you my fist."

Stan and Wendy blinked at him, then at each other. Gideon also rose; in short order the two ended up nose to bouffant near the end of the coffee table.

"Get out of my house," the psychic snarled, pointing a fat finger at the door. "I won't accept such threats against my person – especially not from  _you_."

Wendy was growing faintly agitated at the tension. She approached the feuding boys, all the while looking for guidance from her boss. "Uh, Mister Pines? Should we...?"

He waved her off with a wry smirk. "Nah. I wanna see this. You guys got any popcorn?"

"Give me back my sister," Dipper growled, peering down at his adversary with barely-restrained rage.

"I can't give you something I ain't got," Gideon fired back, standing on the balls of his feet to minimize his height disadvantage. "Just like you can't give me proof of the crime you think I've committed."

Dipper chose this moment to bring up the black stone, dropping his eyes down to stare at it. "I see you've got a new tie. What's this one do, huh? Something traumatic, I bet."

Gideon finally snapped. "Leave my tie alone!" he roared, smacking Dipper's hand away. "Get out! All of you get out right this instant!"

Of all the looks he got in response, Dipper's boundless hate and Stan's muted displeasure were somehow the least unsettling. It was Wendy's unsure anxiety that hit him the hardest; it was, to him, a sign that his preciously maintained public image was taking unacceptable damage. "I mean...aheheh. Pardon my temper," he said, trying to clarify. It was almost exclusively for her benefit. "I don't appreciate being called a kidnapper is all."

"You  _are_  one!" Dipper exploded, throwing his arms up. "You kidnapped both of us before you went after Stan with the flashlight!"

"Uh, I don't think I've heard this part of the story," Stan interjected, hand raised as if in school.

An endless peal of nervous laughter came from the psychic. He could feel the noose getting tighter, and while he wanted nothing more than to put the Pines in their place, he couldn't do it with Wendy watching him. "Miss Corduroy, perhaps you should go. I wouldn't want you to get caught up in all this nonsense." He lathered his request with so much eye fluttering and smiling it caused Dipper to gag.

"Ehhh," she replied, her discomfort genuine. Gideon literally started to throw money at her from his suit jacket. "What the heck? Are you bribing me?"

"This is simply a matter concerning myself and the Pines. Buy a whole case of moisturizer if you like, just  _go_." He was almost pleading with her by this point. She looked past him at Dipper, who gave her a single nod.

Something about his stance was oddly calm. "Grunkle Stan, take her home. This is between me and Gideon."

"You sure?" He too received a singular nod. "All right. We've got your back, kid. Don't forget it." Dipper tossed him the book as he went by.

Wendy picked the bills up off the carpet, grabbing them all just as Stan arrived. With one final look at the two boys, she followed the old man out onto the porch and closed the door. "You sure this is a good idea?" she asked, watching him adjust his fez.

He was unfazed by her worry and started down the path back to his car. "Not really, but Dipper made me promise not to dive in. Kept saying he needed someone to stay back and keep this thing safe." The golden palm on the cover of the strange book shone in the morning sun as he moved it in his hand.

An unconvinced Wendy followed him, but only halfway. "What if Gideon hurts him...or worse?"

Stan peered back over his shoulder with hard, cold eyes. "Then I will  _destroy_  him." His look faded into something that almost resembled amused confidence. "Ah, I doubt it'll come to that. Gideon's the type that likes to enjoy his victories, if you get my drift. Just stick to Dipper's plan until you can't."

Wendy placed a hand on her hip. "You trust his judgment that much? I mean, we don't totally know what's going on here."

Stan looked down at the journal tucked under his arm and shrugged. "Nobody's gonna convince him otherwise. It's one of those 'whatever it takes to save Mabel' deals. He continued on to his car. "Anyway, I wasn't joking when I said I ain't got part of the story. Dipper seems to know more about the little troll than I do."

The redhead waved at him to stop him from getting in. "Yeah, but letting him be the bait? I don't know about all that, man."

"Relax. If push comes to shove, I'll go rescue 'em." His wry smile was replaced by something darker. "By any means necessary."

She watched as Stan got into the car and drove away, running a hand through her hair. "If you say so. I just hope Dipper knows what he's doing." Sighing lowly, she glanced around the yard for a place to conceal herself and wait.

* * *

Back in the living room, Gideon had shed his polite demeanor entirely. "I didn't think you'd catch on quite so fast." The two were circling each other like sharks around the furniture. "How  _did_  you figure it out?"

"You helped, mister shut up and take my money. Besides, I've learned that the journal is usually a pretty good source of information." As he moved, his whole body grew tenser, ready to pounce on the psychic at the slightest provocation. "Give me my sister. Now."

"Mabel's awfully upset. Perhaps she'll come around if I bring her a present." He smirked at Dipper's angry growl. "I admit it. I took her. Too bad you can't do anything about it... _boy_."

Gideon's smug tone was the final straw. Dipper tried to hurdle the coffee table and attack, but the psychic unleashed the power of the black jewel. His neck tingled as control of his arms and legs fell away, leaving his upper half slumped against the table. "What the..." Even with the pain, he quickly pieced together exactly how Gideon was doing it. "Oh, I s-see now. I guess I was right about the tie."

Gideon leaned over him to increase its potency, cackling at the squirms it drew from Dipper's body. "Feels familiar, doesn't it? I won't even bother with the Slender Man illusion this time. I just want to watch you beg."

"Get bent," he moaned, eyes squeezed shut in agony. "I wouldn't give you the satisfaction."

"We'll see, boy. We'll see." Gideon reached into his suit again, this time producing a walkie talkie. "Daddy, bring the van around. I've got some things I need to drop off."

Dipper's eyes shot open. "Are you nuts, man? He's not gonna let you take me!"

"Sure he is. He knows better than to ask questions." Gideon moved in even closer, trying to smash Dipper with the jewel's might. "Now be a good lad and pass out already."

"Ne...ver..." he wheezed, but he was already reaching the end of his resistance. None of his limbs were working; in fact, it felt like someone had reached into his chest and was squeezing his heart. "Get a-away from...from me..." His eyes slid shut again, this time against his will. They did not open afterward.

Seeing his foe limp, Gideon finally stepped back and began to laugh. "Oh my, I'm going to enjoy this. Now hang tight while I find a nice bag to stuff you in." He retreated upstairs and dug in his closet, looking through the few performance props he kept therein. One of these was a larger version of the bag his father used to collect the entry fee to the tent. "This'll have to do." He snatched it and took it back to the living room. It was much more difficult to put Dipper into the sack than he thought it'd be. After two minutes of trying, he gave up and stumbled into the kitchen. "Mom! Put this kid in this bag so I can kidnap him!"

Trembling, the woman abandoned her vacuum cleaner and did exactly that, shoving Dipper's unconscious body into the sack without a single word. Gideon watched her, nodded approvingly, then pointed back into the kitchen. "Go." Just after she skittered away, his father walked in through the front door. "Load this into the van," Gideon directed him, giving Dipper's head one last shove so it would fit in the sack. Bud looked a little put off by the request, so the psychic clapped his hands sharply. "Get to it, daddy. I don't have all day."

The two went outside, Bud carrying the bag over his shoulder. Gideon was right behind him. Wendy watched with quiet surprise as they entered the van from her position around the corner of the house.

"Where are we going?" Bud asked, frowning at the weight of the unconscious boy in his arms.

Gideon snickered, rubbing his hands with anticipation. "Back to the factory. I'll be a while, so drop me off and wait for me to call you."

She had to retreat into a bush when they got in and started driving away. Counting off two minutes in her head, she emerged and made sure they were gone. "Awesome. Here goes nothing, I guess." She darted into the house. Gideon's mother was vacuuming the living room, but didn't even look up at her. "Uh...right." The redhead moved past and up the stairs, searching for the psychic's bedroom. Once she found it and walked in, her search began in earnest. "I don't even know where to  _start_  looking for this thing." Fortunately, it was tucked away in the first desk drawer she opened.

She sat on the edge of the bed and flipped the cover aside, shuffling through the text. Every single tidbit of information was a bomb that blew up her perception of the town; a few pages in, she had to stop and collect herself. "What the heck am I even reading?" she sighed, rubbing at her forehead. "Mystic amulets? Triangle guys?" Time was of the essence, so she had to press on. At last, she reached a section where a diagram of a brain stem was the feature. In the upper right corner of the page opposite, an image of a blackish sphere had been drawn in. Curious, she couldn't help but read it out loud. "'I discovered this odd gemstone floating in Gravity Falls Lake on 6/18'...I wonder what year. 'At first I believed it to be a type of quartz, but upon further evaluation realized that it seems to have strange effects on my nervous system.' Oh man, this is just terrific."

She took a breath and looked further down the page, where 'addendum' was scribbled in large letters. "'I believe this stone may be an orb of highly compressed magic, such as found in the local gnome population.' Gnomes? Are you freaking kidding me? 'Extremely detrimental effects observed after repeated exposure, especially at close ranges. These include, but are not limited to, unconsciousness. This effect can be targeted against an opponent, but the user must be familiar with that person.' Huh." Under the picture of the orb, there was another illustration of the brain. This time, two other parts of it were circled. "The stone also affects the visual cortex and...occi...occipital lobe?" She didn't have to figure the meaning out herself; the implications were right below, triple underlined and in bold. "'I can make people see whatever I want'. Holy crap, Dipper was right on."

Her internal clock suddenly butted in, and it was then she realized she should probably make her escape. She carefully put the book back and closed the drawer, then moved out and down the stairs. Gideon's mother was again vacuuming the kitchen, but as before paid no attention to the redhead's presence. Shuddering, Wendy darted away and off the front porch, walking quickly down the sidewalk. "Geez, man. I'll never look at the little creep the same way again." She shoved her hands into her pockets and shook her head. "I guess he's back by now." Her right hand emerged, clutching her cellphone. Flipping it open and dialing with her thumb, she pressed it to her ear. "Come on, pick up. Come on...Mister Pines!"

"What's up, kid?"

"Gideon took the bait," she said, almost breathless. She paused for a moment to cross the street; once on the other side she fell onto a bench to try and calm herself down. "And I think I might need therapy after all the junk I just read."

"Not paying for it. Where did he take Dipper?"

"Up to his factory. I bet that's where he's got Mabel." Every car that went by caught her attention until she realized it wasn't the van returning. "I figured out what he used on us. It's this jewel thing that screws around with your eyes and brain stem. How are we supposed to fight that?"

"Hold on." The faint noise of rustling paper reached her ears as she waited on him. "Got it. I don't  _get it_ , get it, but I gotta admit I don't understand a lot of what's happened in the past twelve hours. I'll come pick you up, then you can get ready to spring the mystery twins."

A stunned Wendy sat up straight, eyes bulging. "Why  _me_?"

"I dunno. It's what he wrote down."

* * *

The van's rough jostling finally shook Dipper awake after a few minutes, but the bag made it too dark for him to get his bearings. Figuring it would be best to continue playing dead, he bit his lips to prevent the hits from making him grunt. Once he was certain all his limbs were working, all that was left was to wait for the trip to end.

"I'm coming, Mabel," he allowed himself to whisper. "At least, I hope I'm coming." Now that he had a moment to think, he silently admitted that this was probably not going to be in the top ten of brilliant ideas he'd ever constructed. "Oh well. Any plan you walk away from is a good one, I guess." His right leg shocked him with a shooting twinge of pain. "Ugh. I'd better keep my mouth shut."

Time immeasurable passed, but at last the van came to a squeaking stop. He heard Gideon open the door and get out, but after it was slammed closed there was relative silence for a few seconds. The next noise was the rear doors being opened; enough light entered for him to see the psychic's silhouette through the fabric. Gideon had to climb in to grab the sack's neck. A series of loud grunts accompanied his attempt to move it. Dipper, not ready to reveal himself as being awake, acted like dead weight as much as he could. Once Gideon managed to pull him out and onto the ground, it took all his willpower not to groan with the impact.

"She'll be so happy to see him," he chirped lowly, tacking on a contented cackle. "Maybe I'll finally make some progress."

Dipper let out a whisper of a sigh as he heard those words. His success – partial as it was – made bearing the cuts and scrapes of the drag into the factory worthwhile. Once they were inside, the psychic released the bag. "Mabel! I've got you a present!"

He could hardly hear his sister's reply. "Go play in traffic." His previous satisfaction vanished in a cloud of worry; something in her flat, too-even tone made his skin crawl.

"Oh, but I'm sure you'll enjoy this." He was on the move again, trying his hardest to not burst out of the bag and tell Mabel it was going to be okay, that he was here. The next time his journey came to a halt, the flaring itch took hold of his neck again. Gideon pulled open the sack and smiled inside. "Awake? Why didn't you tell me? We could have had some  _fun_  on the way over."

"Huh?" Mabel perked up a little, but Dipper was in too much distress to hear it. Unceremoniously, he was yanked from the bag and deposited at her feet.

He tilted his head to smile up at her. It was all the motion the jewel's power would allow him. "Hey," he gasped, trying to make his ragged breaths seem less painful than they were. She didn't reply immediately; it allowed him to focus on her stunned face – and the half-dried trails of red that came from her eyes. "Wh-what...happ-"

Gideon kicked him in the side, forcing him to be quiet. "This isn't about you, so shut up. See, Mabel? I'm in tune with your wishes. I brought you the thing you wanted most."

"Dipper?" she squeezed out. The look in her eyes said she didn't believe what she saw, although it was quickly replaced by a more cheerful glitter. "Dipper! What in the heck are you doing here, bro?"

"I came for you," he wheezed, trying to sit up. Gideon wouldn't let him. "What happened to your face?"

Mabel didn't say a word, being content to glare at the psychic with unbridled hatred. It was then that Dipper noticed her arms were behind her back. In short order, his arms ended up the same way as Gideon handcuffed him. That was enough to gain a reaction from her. "Let him go!"

"Not happening." He did call off the black stone's force, however, and Dipper scrambled over to his sister after he could feel his legs again. "Isn't this adorable?" he sneered. Mabel suddenly fell over onto him and killed his look.

"What are you doing?" Dipper whispered. After some time, she knocked him onto his back and simply laid on top of him. "Mabel?"

"I'm trying to give you an armless hug. It's not really working." She also attempted to laugh, but the noise came out instead as a clipped series of sniffles. "How did you even find me?"

"Gideon is an awful liar," he said with a grin. Mabel rolled off and allowed him to sit up, where he received a hideous smile from the psychic. "As for how I figured out why to start looking with him, you can blame the journal."

"Yay, weird little book!" she cheered, wincing as tried to raise her arms against the cuffs. "Ow."

The psychic wrung his hands with anticipation. "Trust me, I'll deal with that later. In fact, I bet Stanford will be more than willing to give it to me in exchange for your life."

Mabel was suddenly full of vigor, hopping around on her rear like an angry kangaroo. "You leave him alone! I will...something your something with something!" She fell still and grumbled audibly. "Geez, I am  _horrible_  at being horrible, aren't I?"

Dipper flashed a half-smile at her, but threw a bitter scowl up at Gideon. "It's fine. I'm not afraid of him."

He shot a chilly smirk right back. "We can work around such trivialities." Clutching the jewel, he focused its power on Dipper, causing him to crumple to the ground. Slowly, he walked forward, savoring the increasing volume of Dipper's agony. "Not so tough now, huh?" Before he could laugh at the scene, Mabel threw herself on top of her brother.

"Stop it!" she screeched, tears streaming. "Stop hurting him!" When she realized he was still assaulting Dipper around her attempt at being a shield, she snapped. Screaming, she tumbled to her feet and charged Gideon with her head down, forcing him to divert some of the black magic to defeat her attack. Like Dipper, she crumpled to the floor in a twitching pile, landing flat on her face. "Worth it," she moaned around the concrete floor.

"My, my, you're quite a handful together." Gideon paused to laugh out loud at a thought that popped up. "Handful! Like that day I put y'all in the jar. Fun times."

Mabel let out a long, low growl. Behind her, Dipper tried to slide up beside her on the floor, but the friction defeated him. "Leave her alone! You brought me here to beat me up, didn't you? Besides, I don't think  _gentlemen_  hurt girls."

Corny as they were, his words did make the psychic lay off. "Valid point. And I didn't bring you here just for that." He focused the jewel's energy wholly on Dipper, causing him to wail in pain.

"Noooooooo..." Mabel cried, too weak to even roll over. "St-stop..."

"Be my queen. Be my queen and all the pain goes away." Gideon smiled down at her as she wept, then used the jewel to pound Dipper's nervous system when she wouldn't immediately reply. "Say yes! Say yes or I'll make his eyes explode!"

"Don't do it, Mabel, I'm f-fine," Dipper coughed.

She was at last able to roll over and look at him. Blood was streaming from his eyes, and yet he was trying his best to smile at her. The sight was too much for her to take. "Fine! Whatever! Just stop it!" she demanded, lying on on her stomach and sobbing into the floor.

"Now was that so hard?" Gideon purred, disengaging the jewel and kneeling down by Mabel's head. He reached down to pet her hair, expecting her to fight. She had nothing left to fuel it, even if the feeling made her bitterly angry. "Don't cry. Just think what I – we – can do with this power. We can rule the  _world_!"

"I hate you so much," she mumbled, turning her head away from him to look back at her brother. Dipper was unconscious, head lying in a minor puddle of crimson. "Dip, please say something. Dipper?"

His body jerked twice, and after a moment his eyes slid open. He looked through Mabel, then up at Gideon, before it appeared he actually understood what he was seeing. "You'll have to kill me before I let her go with you," he stated, wincing in pain as he tried to roll and sit up.

Mabel wept anew, trying to get her brother to back off before Gideon granted his wish. "No, no, no no no! Stop being heroic you dork!"

Now upright, Dipper blinked the blood from his vision and looked around. He scooted over, nudging Mabel in the side with a knee. "It's fine. He only thinks he's won."

"Is that right?" Gideon snarled, ready the clutch the jewel again. "Because I don't have to think I've won. I  _have_  won."

"Dipper Pines, I swear if you don't shut up and stop trying to get yourself killed..." Mabel couldn't finish her threat; her eyes met his, and she was stunned by the emotion they contained.

"Mabel, I promise it's going to be okay." He pointed his gaze at Gideon, smiling a smile that made both of them cringe. "Hey, you know how villains gloat on those cartoons we used to watch?" While he was staring down the psychic, his words were addressed to his sister. He didn't even wait for her to try and answer. "I'm gonna do that for just a second. Gideon, you have no idea what's coming."

Dipper's tone made Mabel distinctly uncomfortable. "Bro-bro, why do you suddenly sound like evil incarnate?" she asked, trying to sit up. Gideon responded by grabbing the jewel, causing him to flop around. "No! Please, stop!  _Stop_!"

"I'm the only one in position to brag," he hissed, searing Dipper's body with the power. "Now go to sleep. Your sister and I need to talk."

Mabel wailed bitterly as she saw him go limp, but the noise was cut short when she saw his expression. His cheeks were marred with tracts of red, his face was deathly pale, but the thing that bothered her most was the smile still plastered on his face.

* * *

This was easily the most menacing that Stan had ever seen Wendy act, although she was still cool-headed and looked slightly bored with everything. She stalked out of his office with shirt sleeves rolled up tight, pointed to the nearest door, and said "Let's go."

"Go where?" He stepped aside as she strode past without a word, which was all the answer he needed. "Oh no you don't. I'm more afraid of your dad than anything except death itself, and that's a close race. Why do you think I've never fired you?" She kept walking, forcing him to follow her out of the entryway and outside as she went toward his car. "Wendy, I'm not letting you fight Gideon alone! It's suicide!"

She was already opening the passenger door. "It's fine, Mister Pines. I can handle this creep."

He blinked at her, then slapped his forehead and groaned. "Okay, did Dipper leave you a bazooka? Are you packin' heat? 'Cause if not, then I don't think I can agree with your sudden bout of confidence."

The redhead was already buckled in as Stan entered the car. Her arms were folded as she stared out the windshield. She looked for all the world like a smaller, daintier version of her massive father. "Look, don't worry about it. When I'm done, someone will explain – try to explain, I guess. All that matters is that you take me up to the factory so I can get Mabel and Dipper back. The details can wait."

"So I'm gonna meet my ends at the hands of Dan Corduroy. Ain't this a twist." Grumbling, he started the car and backed out toward the dirt road that weaved through the trees and to the highway. "Listen, kid, I appreciate you sticking your neck out like this, but for the love of goat cheese, don't get yourself killed."

"Nobody's gonna die." Suddenly there was a smile on her face, as if the whole thing were amusing for reasons only she knew. "Actually, check that. I might have to kill Gideon."

"I'll file that under collateral damage," Stan muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "Seriously, you gotta give me something. What was in that note Dipper left for you?"

She was still smirking as she denied his inquiry with a shake of her head. "Heh. He made me promise not to say anything until after it's over. You just gotta trust me."

He peered over at her just long enough to avoid running off the road with distraction. "I can't even trust you to clean the bathrooms, and you want me to trust you with the lives of my niece and nephew?"

Wendy dropped her arms and sighed, growing annoyed with the repeated questions. "Not me, Dipper. It's all according to plan, just like you said."

"Yeah, well, on further consideration, I'm starting to think this plan was stupid. Not just because of what's gonna happen to me if  _you_  die, but for Dipper and Mabel's sake. You can't just go barging in there." They could see the road to the factory ahead, a wandering trail of dirt that ascended to the building itself. "This is just about the dumbest thing I've ever let happen."

His minor tirade sent the redhead to giggling. "I see where Dipper gets the anxiety from." He retorted only with a series of grumbles; they were by now almost literally at the factory gates. Stan stopped the car and looked up at the structure.

"You've got your phone, right?" he asked, glancing over one last time. She patted her hip pocket and nodded. "Call me if it goes south. Please. Actually, I'm gonna wait out here. If I don't see anybody in like, twenty minutes, I'm going in."

She shrugged and left a wave goodbye, emerging from the car into the warm morning air. A couple of puffy clouds drifted by, killing the light as she reached the double doors. "Welp. This is either gonna be awesome, or I'm gonna be toast." A wry smile twisted her lips. "Here goes nothing." Very gently, she pushed the doors open and crept inside, trying to see where the twins were. Her first indication was Gideon's cackling, echoing off the walls from the rear of the space. Using everything in sight as cover, she made her way closer to see what was happening. After taking up position behind a stack of boxes, she peeked out and saw a weeping Mabel, sitting on the floor near a bed – and right next to a seemingly unconscious Dipper.

"Dipper, please get up," she heard the girl say, sobbing all the while.

Gideon laughed at her misery. "I'm sure he will, then I'll have the chance to make him go right back to sleep again."

"No! He's bleeding!" Mabel hunched over with the force of her emotion. "Can't you just leave him alone? You've got what you wanted."

The psychic poked at his limp body with a shoe. "I surely could, but I want to enjoy this. A lot. For a  _long_  time. Besides, it'll be nice to have your brother around to serve as entertainment, hmm?"

Wendy had already heard her fill, slipping out from her hiding spot and walking straight for the trio. Mabel saw her through the tears and gasped loudly enough to make Gideon turn to look.

"Miss Corduroy!" he blurted out, backing up a step. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

"Putting an end to this crap," she replied evenly. She came to a stop a few feet in front of the psychic, towering over him and looking far more intimidating than usual. The puddle of blood under Dipper's head caught her attention first, followed by the red streaks that trailed from Mabel's eyes. "What have you been  _doing_  to them, man?"

"Now, I can ex-" He grunted as Mabel tried to kick him in the back of the knees.

"Wendy, run! Run and get help! Run before he hurts you!" she shrieked, legs flailing at anything she knew wasn't her brother.

"No!" Gideon panicked, grabbing the jewel and staring up at the redhead. "None of that leaving here and telling people. I have my adorable image to consider!" He focused the stone's power on her, cackling. "Forgive me, but you'll see things my way after you  _sleep on—_ wait, what the?"

Wendy continued to loom over the psychic like an angry, red-haired mountain. She folded her arms and flashed a wicked smirk. "Something wrong, shorty? 'Cause I feel just fine."

"Wh-wh-wh-wh-wh..." Gideon fell back onto his rear and started to scoot away. He yelped as both of Mabel's sneakers slammed into his shoulder blades, but kept his focus on trying to knock Wendy down. "Why isn't it working?!"

She took slow steps in his direction, her evil grin getting deeper. "Gideon, this town is full of secrets. Secrets you can't even begin to imagine."

Mabel finally stopped trying to attack the psychic as the shock of what she saw registered. She simply blurted out the first analogy that came to mind. "Holy moley! Wendy's the Terminator!"

The redhead burst out laughing, carrying the noise along as she bent down and snatched the black jewel from Gideon's trembling grasp. "That's cute. Could you imagine me being a metal chick? Like, an actual metal chick." She rolled her eyes and grumbled. "Ugh, Robbie."

" _This is not possible_!" Gideon wailed, too stunned to try and stand. "You should be on the ground! On your knees!" He watched her toss the precious stone in her left hand, stumbling to his feet at last in an attempt to rush her. "Give me that!"

Wendy easily dropped the sole of her right boot onto his forehead and shoved him away. He nearly tumbled into Mabel as he fell over onto his back. As he came to rest, his waving arms and legs made him look like a finely-coiffed turtle. "It's over, man. Now get the cuffs off of my friends before I add injury to insult."

Mabel lost control of her smile as she watched Gideon obey, drawing the key from his suit and crawling over to her. Once free, she grabbed her wrists and unleashed an endless stream of pained hissing noises. "Dang. Dang. Dang. Dang! Ow." Dipper was let go next, but he remained limp. While Wendy kept a close eye on the psychic, she went over to try and wake him. "Dippy. Dipster. Dipstick. Dippeeeeeer." She resorted to the tried and true method of incessant pokes to make him stir. "Boop. Beep. Dipper, come on. Scold me for being annoying." He was still motionless; all the hope that had just flooded her brain was draining away, leaving dread behind. "Dipper! D-D-Dipper, wake up..."

"Did you kill him?" Wendy asked, pinning Gideon down with a frigid stare.

"I don't think so?" He laughed nervously, looking for somewhere to hide. "My goodness, what have I done...I didn't mean to make people bleed all over the place."

Mabel's voice was starting to warble more and more with each passing moment, although there was no joy in her makeshift song. "Dipper I swear if you don't wake up right now I will cry  _again_  and, and, and..."

A grunt of sorts escaped from his nose, causing her to slump over with relief. She kept on poking him, however, unwilling to leave him any chance of slipping back into unconsciousness. "Wakey wakey, bro. You gotta see this! Wendy's turned into a robot!"

"Here we go again," the redhead grinned, clutching the black jewel. To ensure he wouldn't try to make a run for it, she walked over to Gideon and stood behind him. "Hey, Dipper! You with us or what?" she yelled, her free hand cupped around her mouth.

"I feel like an ice cream truck parked on my head," he groaned. With no small amount of effort, he sat up, a hand to his temple. One side of his face was drenched crimson, causing Mabel to sniffle powerfully. "I'm fine. Just give me a second so my brain stops tasting purple."

That was just enough wit to make her giggle. "Fine, be lazy." Mabel stood up, her face shining with a slightly vacant smile while her brain picked up the little pieces of herself that had been lost over the past two days. Her expression softened into sadness when she ran over the events. "And I was gonna throw myself out the window. Dang, I never wanna be that hopeless again."

"I really must apologize," Gideon stammered, shrinking back when Mabel glared blades of pure hatred at him. "Genuinely! I did not at all mean for this to es-escalate so fast! I just wanted to kidnap you, that's it!"

"Which really makes the whole thing so much better," Dipper droned sarcastically. He lifted a hand for assistance, which his sister gave almost automatically. "I'm just glad it all worked out—ow!" Mabel was now punching him firmly in the arm. "What are you even...Mabel, stop that!"

"Don't you  _ever_  do that again, Dipper," she warned harshly, every word punctuated with a not-so-gentle blow. "I thought were you gonna die!" Now the tears were flowing again, so fast she turned away and hid her face in her hands. "I thought...I thought I was gonna  _watch_ you..."

"This was probably the dumbest idea I've ever had," he finally admitted, trying to hug her in a way that wouldn't leave bloodstains all over her sweater. "I suspected it was Gideon, I just didn't know how he was doing it. The journal kept referencing illusions and a stone of some kind. When I saw his tie, I just said 'that's gotta be it'. So, I figured I'd let him beat up on me, so he'd..." Dipper went silent, releasing his sister and moving away. "So he'd stop beating up on you, if he was."

"Which was absolutely not my intention," Gideon interjected. "By the way, about that journal of yours..." He was shushed by a hard boot from Wendy.

"Scheming again already, man?" she asked, shaking her head. "Keep your mouth shut, or I'll stick my boot so far up your rear you'll have to brush your teeth with shoe polish."

"Who-ho-ho-hoaaa," Mabel blinked. "Wendy be saucy today." She caught Dipper's odd grin out of the corner of her eye and turned to call him on it. "What is with the creepy smiling? You were doing that even when you were knocked out."

"It was the dumbest idea," he replied, still wearing the smirk, "but it worked to absolute perfection. Now, let's blow this creepy popsicle stand. I wanna take a nap."

Gideon jumped up, waving his arms, then pointing at the redhead. "Wait! How did you defeat the stone's power?"

Wendy looked at Dipper, then at Mabel, then back down at the confused psychic. "We all have our secrets," she replied, simply, turning on her heel and leading the kids toward the door. "You sure we should just leave him?" she asked, looking down at the woozy boy.

"I'll assume he has the decency to leave us alone. I'll be wrong, but..." He looked back at a confused Gideon, staring at the blood on the concrete. "Maybe he'll leave us alone for a day or two."

Just as they reached the doors, Stan threw them open. His mouth was wide, ready to unleash some sort of battle cry. That harsh expression dropped when he saw the victorious redhead and her charges. "Huh. I knew it would work!"

"Uh huh," Dipper said, half a grin on his lips. His steps outside were wobbly and unsure. Mabel immediately rushed over to support him, letting him use her left shoulder as a crutch. "I need some orange juice, or something."

"Or a hospital! Hospitals can help with this sort of thing," Stan pointed out. They all piled into his car. "Here's the plan. Mabel, I'm gonna take you and Wendy back to the shack. Dipper, we're going to a doctor."

The twins processed his words; it didn't take long until Mabel's eyes suddenly grew huge. " _Are you nuts_?!" she yelled, pounding the car seat. "There's no way I'm gonna let him go anywhere without me!"

"Fine, new plan. Wendy, I'll take  _you_  back to the shack, and then I'll take the clingy ones to the hospital." They all murmured agreement. "Good." Most of the ride home was spent in silence on the redhead's part, while Dipper and Mabel bickered lightly back and forth. Stan wore a relieved look the whole way, but didn't say much either.

Wendy got out of the car once they had returned, giving everyone a light wave before turning her back on the vehicle and walking inside the old house. Her first act was to go quickly to Stan's office. Upon opening the door, she looked at the desk.

Another Wendy was sitting there, a can of Pitt in her hands, trembling vaguely. Her eyes darted up to look at her clone as she came in. "Are they all okay?"

The clone nodded, flashing a more genuine sort of smile than she'd shown to Stan. "Yeah. Worked like a charm. Looks like paper brain stems don't count as regular brain stems." She gave the redhead her phone back, sat on the edge of the desk, and sighed. From her other pocket she drew the black jewel, dropping it on the desk. "I guess it's that time, huh?"

"Dude, I can't kill you," Wendy said, rising from the chair and walking away. "You're  _me_. And you saved Dipper and Mabel!"

"He wrote it down, man." The clone waited until her real number looked back, then pointed at the note beside her on the desktop. "You've gotta take me out."

"Geez, am I really this hard to rile up?" Wendy asked herself, and by extension the other her. "Why did he saddle me with this, anyway?"

"Oh, come on, it's all here." The clone snatched up the paper and strode across the room, handing it to the actual Wendy. "Read it again."

Rubbing at her aching head first, she set her soda aside and scanned the writing. "'I know it won't make sense, but you just have to trust me. The copier will make a clone of you that should, hopefully, be immune to whatever force is at work here. I know it's a lot to handle, but I'll explain it to you when I get back. Be warned, when this is over, you'll have to eliminate her before anyone finds out.' That doesn't help me at all."

The clone was amused, shaking her head and laughing faintly. "You're thinking too much. Hey, where'd you get that soda?" Wendy nodded in the direction of the kitchen, assuming correctly that her other self would get the message. "Cool. I'll be right back."

She watched the false redhead go, then went back to the desk chair and sat. "I wonder if dad is willing to move to Canada. I don't think I can handle all this anymore." She drained her can and crumpled up the note, tossing it into the trash can in the corner. "Score."

"Good shot." The clone walked over and raised her soda in a mock salute. "Let's make this easy on you." She tipped the can back and took a long swig. "Not bad." She leaned on the desk and looked nonchalant as she melted away internally. "You're gonna need a mop for this, by the way."

"Need a mop?" Wendy looked up just in time to see the clone dissolve into a peachy puddle. "Holy..." For a moment, she stared at the liquid; it was almost like looking at death, except fizzier. "Man, I do  _not_  get paid enough for this."

She trundled out, looking for the mop bucket. This marked the first occasion she'd ever actually planned to use the thing, so finding it was something of a task. Once she did, and had it rolled back to the office, Dipper popped out of the doorway. She couldn't help but notice the hospital bracelet on his left wrist.

"Hey. I see you got it taken care of," he said, nodding back at the puddle.

"She killed herself. And to be honest, trying to comprehend the thought of me dying, except not, is really giving me a headache." Wendy shuffled past and into the office, getting to work on removing the mess. "Everyone all right?"

"Yep. It all worked out, amazingly." He took a drink of the orange juice in his hand and watched as she sopped up the puddle. "Are  _you_  okay?"

"Why did you pick me?" she asked, stopping cold and gazing at him.

Dipper frowned a little, moving past to sit at the desk. "I needed someone I could trust, but not someone Gideon was too familiar with. If I'd cloned myself or Stan, he could tell. Did you see how faded she was?"

Wendy nodded, watching him go. "Yeah, but Mister Pines didn't seem to notice."

"Cataracts," Dipper replied. "You've driven with him. I don't think he could see the broadside of Bermuda even  _with_  his glasses on." The puddle was gone; Wendy dropped the mop into the bucket and pushed the whole thing aside with her boot. "You never answered my question."

She made a visible attempt at being calm, but eventually gave up and threw her hands into the air. "I don't know  _what to think._ That book! A clone of me! What in the world is going on around here?"

"Welcome to my brain since the second week of June." He would have laughed, but the unhappy look on her face stopped him. Instead, he took another swig of juice. "I'm sorry to spring all of that on you, but I had to save Mabel."

"I'm not mad or anything, I'm just...confused. Nah, that doesn't even  _begin_  to cover it." Enough sweat collected on her forehead to force her arm up and across to dry it off. "I almost wish it was just Slender Man."

"Yeah, no." Mabel was in the doorway, arms folded and seeming a bit perturbed. "Dipper, go lie down. Geez, didn't you listen to the guy? You need some rest, boy."

As angry as that word had made him before, it drew an equal amount of laughter now. "Yes,  _mom_ ," he countered, snickering further at the tizzy it threw Mabel into. "All right, I'm going, I'm going." He dragged himself from the chair and out of the room.

"I swear." Mabel slammed her hands onto her hips for a fraction of a second, but was overcome by giggling. Suddenly she darted over and clamped onto Wendy's leg. "Dip told me you got knocked out looking for me last night. Thanks for being a friend."

She smiled, messing up Mabel's mousy locks. "No problem, kid. You two are gonna have to help me deal with the weird, though."

"Sure! Just smile a lot and nod. Always works for me!" Her eyes landed on the jewel on the desk. "Ugh, that thing." She went over and grabbed it. "I'm out. Gotta deal with this."

Whistling and skipping, Mabel traveled through the house at the speed of happy. Waddles fell in with her, oinking almost in tune. The two went out the side door and made a beeline to the bottomless pit. "I hope this thing stays down there," she grumbled, turning the jewel over in her hand. "Say goodbye, sweetheart." She flicked it away and into the abyss, losing track of it after a second of flight. "Come on, Waddles, let's go annoy Dipper while he's trying to sleep."

* * *

Afternoon arrived during their fourth game of Conflict Boat, during which Dipper eventually realized his sister was trying to make a dolphin shape with her pegs. Try as he might, he was unable to stave off his drowsiness, and allowed himself to yawn. Once, twice, then so much his every spoken word was stretched into a long, sleepy drawl.

"E6," he moaned, hardly able to force his eyes to remain open.

Mabel's face lit up at first, but quickly grew confused. "Miss! Wait, no, I already have a peg there. Um. Hit? Do you win?"

"Honestly? I don't even remember." He fell backwards, sprawling out on the floor. "What happened to you in the factory?" Silence chased his question, forcing his head up to look at her. She was nose-deep in the neck of her sweater, looking deeply uncomfortable.

"Things. Stuff," she mumbled, eyes off to the side. She could feel Dipper's questioning gaze; the look made her squirm. "I'm fine, bro. More worried about you after the gallons of blood you went and lost."

"It was a pint." He smiled at her gently, trying to get her out of her yarn shell. "Really, what happened? You looked...broken."

It hurt her just as much to hear those words as it did for him to say them. She too fell backwards, lying on the floor and staring up. "I won't lie. I kinda was. I didn't think I'd ever see you again. Then Gideon wanted me to be his queen – and seriously, why is everyone around here so obsessed with queens? Gnomes want queens, Gideon wants a queen, I mean  _sheesh_." She tried to laugh, but couldn't make the noise. "I also, uh, might have tried to commit suicide out of desperation."

A sea of thickly awkward quiet swallowed them for a time. Dipper rubbed at his neck, struggling to comprehend how Mabel had felt. Mabel, meanwhile, wanted only to forget the whole thing forever. "Maybe I was trying to do the same thing," he finally wondered out loud, causing her to look at him over her chest. "Sorry. Just analyzing my own idea. Spoiler alert: it was really, really  _dumb_."

She sat up and flashed him a hesitant smile. "No, the real spoiler is that we shouldn't be separated without our approval like, ever."

"Yeah." Dipper laid back down and groaned. "Hey there, mister attic. Could you please stop spinning?"

Suddenly she was there, clinging to his side and trying not to sniffle. "Told ya. That's what you get for being a hero."

He hugged her back and chuckled. "I'll be the sidekick for a while, then."

Several pokes were aimed at his ribs as Mabel tried to keep herself in order. "Good. My sweaters will protect me. You just have that dorky vest."

Words failed them both, so they spent the next few minutes just being around each other. Unfortunately, for Dipper this brought him perilously close to the edge of sleep, then right over it. He let out a snore directly into Mabel's ear, causing her to jerk back and jostle him awake.

"Go to sleep! On or in a not-floor place, I mean." she chided, trying to pick him up herself. "Erk. I don't think I could put you to bed either."

"Okay, okay." Dipper stood up – with some help – and tottered over to his bed. Before he could get completely settled under his blanket, a thought popped up that needed resolution. "Hey, you got rid of that stone, right?"

She nodded rapidly and grinned. "Sure did. Threw that punk in the pit like a straight baller."

His face twisted with worry as he sat up in bed. "Uh, Mabel, it'll just come flying back out. You'd better go make sure it's not on the grass before some tourist picks it up."

With a snappy salute, she turned and moved out of their room and down the stairs. She hardly got outside when she saw Stan herding a group toward the front entrance.

"No, it's a rock that just  _looks_  like a face!" he explained, loudly.

Giggling, Mabel ignored the rest of the chatter from that direction and wandered around the other side of the house to the tremendous hole. She took her sweet time and looked around at almost everything, soaking in the simple pleasure of not having to worry about a being from her nightmares popping out to terrify her.

"Smells like freedom," she muttered sagely. "Delicious freedom. Maybe like, a freedom cake with freedom sprinkles. Or freedom ice cream! Nah, that'd melt into freedom goop." She almost walked into the pit in the midst of her monologue. "Durrrr. Nice job, Mabel." Upon scanning the grass, she indeed saw the jewel, glittering amongst the blades. "Dang it." She bent over and snatched it up. "Go  _awaaaaaay_ , already." Deciding it would be best to keep it in the house, she headed back that way.

She completed all of one step before her sight came to rest on a faceless, towering man in a black suit, except this time his tie was blood red. Unlike the illusions, this was very clearly a three-dimensional thing; it cast a shadow on the lawn, a shadow so black it seemed to consume the ground on which it lay. It was about ten yards distant – someone in the tour group should have seen it too, but none of their number ventured to look in her direction.

" _Noooooooooooooooooooooope_ ," Mabel whined, turning right around as she tried to keep her smile together. "Nope. Other way!" It was directly ahead of her again, tilting its head back and forth. "No. You're not even a real thing. Get away from me!"

Every single direction she tried to run in was blocked by the slender form; even snapping her head around could not shake its presence. She looked up into the sky and saw it, chest directly facing her line of sight. Looking at her feet got her the image of it standing at the same range and in the same manner, as if it were phasing through the earth for only her eyes to see. She wound up spinning in terrified circles as she tried to get away, but no matter where she glanced, it was always there, dominating the center of her vision.

She fell backwards and tried to scoot on all fours, keeping the awful thing in her vision despite the stress it caused her. "Please mister guy I just wanna go back inside and be goofy and hug my pig and also my brother so if you wouldn't mind like  _not_  eating my soul that would be totally awesome and-"

To say it appeared directly above her in the blink of an eye would have been incorrect. It moved so fast she had no  _time_  to blink. No more than a foot away now, it radiated a fearsome power that scrambled Mabel's vision into a rotating smear of faded color. She wanted to scream, but her vocal cords were as useful as her suddenly limp extremities. It had brought her into a pocket dimension of silence and fear for reasons she had no hope of deducing. Unable to even mouth words, Mabel just stared at the thing, and it stared back with non-extant eyes.

"Please!" she whispered at last, emptying all her strength to make the noise. It only attracted a howling storm of black tentacles from the back of the thing that flew around all over. They never came too close, but just seeing them was bad enough. "Please. Please. Please," she repeated, talking only if to continue to validate that she was, in fact, still breathing.

It spoke to her, but not in any language she understood. The sensation defied her primitive senses; instead it yanked and grabbed directly at her nervous system and forced her muscles and tendons to move. She lifted her right hand, the one clutching the black jewel, and spread her fingers. A writhing black rope came and took the stone out of her palm, slamming it into where the mouth of the being should have been. It stayed visible at that spot for a whisper of time before fading into the endless white expanse.

"Please?" Mabel said one more time. In a flash it was face to face with her, bent down an inch away from her nose and peering through her mind. The illusory version of the thing had been bad, but this was orders of magnitude worse. Mabel felt like her individual cells were about to explode, as if her very existence was ready to go up in a ball of black flame.

And then it was gone. At the moment her biggest concern was ensuring she was still stuck to reality. She knew she was lying on the grass again. The warm sun tickled her shins; she could feel it, but it was like her brain was still detached from time and space. It finally seemed to plop into her skull, which was when she sat up and tried to cry. Everything was sore. Getting to her feet hurt. Walking hurt. Thinking about how much her body was hurting hurt. Her eyes were wide as saucers too, and she was so on edge that everything in sight was considered a potential threat. Her heart, however, was thumping along at a beat a second, as if she were asleep.

"What took you so long?" Dipper asked as he watched her stumble into their room. "Whoa! Are you okay?"

She fell into her bed and laid there, one leg hanging off the edge. "Fine. Just go to sleep, Dip."

He wasn't convinced, and slid out from under his blanket in preparation to stand. "You sure? You look like you saw a...I need to find another analogy. You know what I me-"

Mabel covered the distance between their beds as if fired out of a cannon. She placed her hands on his cheeks and made him keep eye contact as she spoke. "Bro, I'm cool. I'm gonna handle it. You just go to sleep. I'm begging you, man. Take your nap and we can deal with this later. Okay?"

"Uh...okay?" he stuttered, shocked beyond further response for the moment. Mabel let him go and fell back onto her bed, this time curling into a ball in the center. "Um, are you  _really_  sure?"

"Go to sleep, dang it!" she yelled, although she didn't move.

"Right! Right!" Reluctantly, Dipper assumed his snoozing position, although his sister's behavior was making his spine tingle.

Meanwhile, Mabel was too busy trying to quantify what she'd just watched and sensed and felt. "Sight without seeing, talking without speaking, hearing without listening, touching without feeling," she muttered lowly, three times in total. Desperate for something to cling to, she grabbed her knees and curled up tighter. "I could use a hug from the entire universe right about now.  _Forever_."


End file.
